The Battle's Never Over
by eclipsed heart
Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.
1. The Dream

AN: One: YES, this is a SEQUEL. Actually, if you're gonna get picky, it's the sequel of a sequel. This might also be my last fic for a while, until I cough up another half-decent idea. But I'm quite proud of myself for having written thirty-three stories for this site.(:

Two: I'm going to assume that everyone reading this has read the two stories before it. If you have, then I applaud you for getting this far, and I hope you're not disappointed.

Please do enjoy the first chapter of...

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><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter One: The Dream**

It was like I couldn't stop running. My heart was pounding in my rib cage. I could feel blood pulsing through my veins, throbbing under my skin. Air narrowly escaped from my mouth before being violently sucked back in. My bare feet struck the ground, every step filled with pain. Splinters of wood were poking out from my soles, I knew. All I had on was the thin white gown, starchy material, impersonal wear, itchy feel. It was loose, fitting the wind more than it fit me.

I could hear them behind me, running through the trees. Their snarls and growls, their noisy footfalls. I swore that I felt the fur of their paws brush my skin several times. I pushed myself to run faster, though that felt damn near impossible.

A tree branch scraped across my cheek, drawing on my skin with blood. It was just a scratch among the many other wounds I was receiving on this run.

I stumbled, losing my gain on them. One claw dragged itself across the top of my shoulders, just under my neck, thankfully missing my wings. I lunged forward, but not before the claw managed to rip through part of the gown.

I saw it ahead: salvation. The wood ended just four yards before me. Daylight seeped through the foliage, showing me safety.

It was a cliff.

I felt its hot breath on my flesh, impossibly close. Another claw brushed my hip as I twisted out of its grasp.

Almost there—

A dozen of them broke out of the trees at the same time I did. I smirked. They weren't getting me this time.

I didn't stop running. My foot pushed off the cliff, barely evading the Eraser's grasp. I was soaring, an instance of freefall before I snapped out my wings—

It was only then that I understood why my wings were unscathed.

I had no wings.

I kept falling. Down, down, down, until I hit the mass of Erasers at the bottom of the cliff.

{[(/*\)]}

I'd managed to stop waking with screams, or gasps, or even little jolts. There was no reason to keep Fang worrying.

He was lying right beside me in his bed, and the sunlight from the open window hit him just right. His chest moved up and down peacefully, his lips just barely parted. No snores, just breathing.

Two months ago, Fang had knocked on my bedroom door and come right in with a goofy smile on his face and his hands behind his back. "What's up?" I'd asked him, to which he didn't respond immediately. He had kicked the door shut, that mischievous grin never fading. "Fang?" I'd persisted, but he had only started making his way towards me with slow, measured steps.

Needless to say, I had been getting really weirded out.

I hadn't expected Fang to practically pin me to my bed and start kissing me like he did…without using his hands at all. When he had finally stopped (though at that point, I admit I kinda hadn't wanted him to…), he was still smiling.

And then he'd showed me the single red rose he'd been hiding behind his back.

"For one year, Max," he'd whispered against my flesh, his breath warming my neck. "One amazing year. Thank you for giving me that." He'd kissed my lips, placing the rose in my hands. "For this one year, and the many more I hope follow. And for you, my love."

Half the time that I remember this moment, I think he whispered "my _true_ love," but the other half of the time, I'm sure I'm fooling myself.

That was the last I saw of Fang's romantic side for a while, though in the two months after, it did sometimes come back in flashes. A warm smile here, a stolen kiss there. But nothing as nauseatingly mushy as the day that was apparently our one-year anniversary.

Okay, so it wasn't nauseating in the least. It was genuinely sweet.

Lying in bed, trying to rid my mind of the nightmare, I stared at him in the soft morning light. Maya had died six months prior, and things had never been crazier. The only times I could be sure we would be okay were the nights I spent with Fang.

He stirred. His eyes opened for a moment before shutting again. Then they fluttered, almost open, almost closed, waking.

"Good morning, beautiful," he mumbled.

"Hey," I answered pathetically.

He groaned and rolled over, stretching out his arms. "What's waiting for us today?"

"Going to Jeb's office, because he apparently has something to show us. And he said there's someone there we need to meet, like, ASAP. Still don't know if we're all supposed to be going to this or what."

"God, can't we just stay here?"

"Huh?"

"You, me, here, alone. Nothing to worry about, no stupid planet to save. I could live that life. I'd love to."

"Actually, I don't think you could live that life, and neither could I. We'd die of boredom."

Fang chuckled, kissing my forehead. "If you say so."

We stayed there, lying on his bed together, for a few more moments. It was all the peace we could ever have.

Then someone knocked on the door. "Fang?" Lux called from the hall.

Fang sighed. "Duty calls."

"Indeed it does. I should get back to my mom's."

"Alright. See you in a bit."

I nodded, reaching over to kiss Fang once more. I could never have enough of him.

I pulled the sheets off of me, hoping Fang wouldn't notice the way they stuck to my sweaty skin. I threw myself out the window, flying as quickly as I could to my mom's house. The rest of my flock should have been up by then, and they didn't disappoint me. I smelled breakfast the moment I landed in the backyard.

Upon walking in the back door, I found Ella and Iggy in the kitchen, cooking up a batch of scrambled eggs, while Dylan set the table.

"Good morning, guys."

Iggy smirked. "Did you have a good night, Max?"

I tried not to glare at him. "What're you talking about? I just went for a fly about an hour ago."

"Mmhmm…"

"Where's Mom?" I asked Ella.

She shrugged. "Probably at work. She's never really anywhere else these days."

Ella was right. We hardly saw our mother, because she was always at the office with Jeb and the rest of their team. Of course, we had no idea what was going on. Not like they ever actually told us anything useful.

"Is anyone else up?"

Dylan grabbed a metal pot from the dish drainer and a wooden spoon before disappearing up the stairs. Iggy winced when Dylan began making use of his makeshift drum.

"They are now."

"Can I help you guys at all?" I asked.

"NO," was the firm answer.

"Alright." I wandered off into the living room, plopping myself down onto the couch. When the worn material of my pajama bottoms rubbed against my skin, I decided that I should probably change. I passed Dylan on the stairs going up. He was wearing a smug grin, and I swore that his cheek was red, as though someone had thrown something at him…

Nudge had claimed the bathroom, so I meandered into the room we shared and yanked a shirt and a pair of jeans from my side of the closet. Probably the most terrifying thing Nudge and I had faced in the past six months was our closet. It had been a mess ever since we'd started sharing the room, and after I kept pulling out her shirts and she kept pulling out my jeans ("Eww, Max, when was the last time you _washed_ these?"), we'd decided that it was time to organize.

Okay, fine, my mom decided that it was time to organize. I had started a pillow fight with Nudge after she'd doused my favorite pair of jeans with some sort of icky fragrance. Something flowery. Turned out that the pillow I'd implemented was one of my mom's favorites…so of course she was pissed when it ripped apart.

Now, Nudge got some closet, Max got some closet. The split was about seventy percent to Nudge, thirty percent to me. I didn't complain, seeing as I still had plenty of room on my side, while Nudge's stuff was crammed.

Scary, isn't it?

Among other things, the past six months had seen the reboot of Dylan's crazy relationship with Izumi, the nearly constant absence of Jeb and my mom, a postcard from Total and Akila (who had disappeared more than a year before), which was thankfully not from an animal shelter, the loss of a lock from Ella's bedroom door (my mom walked in on Ella and Iggy for the second time, but this time, they were not in the hall closet…), the cheering up of Jeb, the withdrawal of Angel from my flock, and Lux from Fang's (they were still around, don't worry; they were just…detached), and the confiscation of most everything in the Gasman's possession, because most of it was flammable.

For the record, I wasn't behind this one. After Gazzy's minefield, the cops came knocking, and Jeb wouldn't let us deal with them. Instead, we had to let them deal with Gaz, who saved Pepin's hide and refused to name any collaborators.

Hey, we handled it as best we could. They wanted to stick Gazzy in a hospital for a while, 'cause they were convinced something was unscrewed in that brain of his. This was when I glanced at Angel, who very gently persuaded the police officers that Gazzy was perfectly fine.

That was about the last time Angel really interacted with the flock, and if she hadn't stepped in for her brother there, I would've given her a serious talking-to.

But from the looks of things at that moment in time, standing in my room, wondering what the day could hold, I told myself that I'd end up giving her a talking-to anyway. Things felt like they were about to go awry for the umpteenth time in my life, and Angel needed to stand with the flock. The last thing I needed was a division in the flock.

I mean, I'm not religious or anything, but doesn't the Bible say something about a house divided not being able to stand? Well, that works out in my head. And if our flock was divided, we were so screwed.

That was why Angel was worrying me. We'd already come so close to division during the whole Maya episode, when I had been suspecting Gazzy. That had just been me and my paranoia, but I wasn't the only one noticing Angel's estrangement.

I headed back downstairs, following my nose to the kitchen. Angel was sitting at the table, a fork in her hand, a plate of eggs in front of her. She smiled at me. "Good morning, Max."

I kissed her head. "Morning, kiddo."

I grabbed my own plate from the cupboard and heaped a hot pile of eggs onto it. Iggy had stirred in some bacon. God, I love him.

Not like that, of course.

…Besides, he seemed to have disappeared. Along with my sister.

That train of thought stopped right there.

I rolled my eyes, sitting down across from Angel. "Who else is up?" I asked her.

"Everyone. They're just taking forever to get down here."

"Alright. Well that's better than nothing." I glanced at the clock and started shoving the eggs down my throat, scraping the fork against the ceramic plate. "I have to go soon."

Angel didn't speak for a moment, but then she crinkled her eyebrows. "Where?"

I had been building up a mental block over the past six months. Another significant change. Over at Jeb's work, hereafter known as the Office, everyone had mentally trained to build one. Angel couldn't read Jeb's mind, or my mom's, and she hadn't been able to read Maya's thoughts. Jeb was working on teaching the same thing to Fang and me, but we weren't supposed to tell our flocks, especially Angel and Lux, our two mind readers. Though they read minds differently, the block was supposed to work for both of them. After all, Lux hadn't been able to read Maya either, or else she would have come forward with information.

The rest of our flocks would probably never be trained in this. Teaching Angel and Lux only brought with it the risk of them figuring out how to unravel our defenses, which would not be good. As for the rest of the flocks, they didn't possess the valuable information that Fang and I were trusted with.

Angel couldn't read me. That was a good sign. Jeb would be pleased.

"Over to the Office. Fang and I have some stuff to do."

"With Jeb, right?"

"Yup. I can't be late." To reinforce this, I slid my chair back and dumped my plate into the sink. "Don't tell Gaz where the matches are. Iggy's in charge."

Angel pursed her lips. "Iggy's making out with Ella right now. You sure you want to leave him in charge? The world could end right now, and he wouldn't notice."

She had a point. "Dylan!" I shouted.

A door opened upstairs, and I heard his quick footsteps on the stairs. He popped his head into the kitchen, his blond hair ruffled. "Yeah?"

"You're in charge while I'm gone. Don't let Gaz near the matches, or the stove; don't let Angel watch too many cartoons; don't let Nudge stay in the shower too long; and make sure Iggy doesn't deflower my sister."

He flashed me a thumbs up. "Got it. Anything else, sergeant?"

"Nope. As you were."

Dylan disappeared before I could say, "Bye."

Angel calmly finished her breakfast and asked, "Since I can't watch cartoons, can I watch _The Matrix_?"

"No. Be good. I'll see you later."

I left her there in the kitchen, though I was sure she was already headed to the family room to watch something she knew I wouldn't approve of. Something much too violent for a ten-year-old.

Just what I needed. A trigger-happy Angel. We all know how that worked out last time.

I shut the front door behind me, glad to step into the morning air. And then I released my wings and took to the sky.

You really should try it some time.

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><p>DISCLAIMER: The dream sequence was heavily inspired by Max's dream at the beginning of <em>The Angel Experiment<em>.

REFRESHER: UPDATES happen every Friday. That's once a week, guys, no more. There's the rare Thursday or Saturday update, but the norm is Friday.

I have my second-and LAST-SAT tomorrow. I need some luck, please. Th best way of giving luck, just so you know, is sending a REVIEW.


	2. A Picture's Worth

AN: So I just recently finished reading Rick Riordan's _The Lost Hero_, the first book in the Heroes of Olympus series. First of all, it was really good. PJO fans, I recommend you check it out. But, second of all, it kinda ticked me off. Not in super bad way. Just...I was gonna write a PJO fic, centering around Percy and Annabeth's daughter. And she was gonna be one of the seven halfbloods for the second Great Prophecy. But Rick Riordan just _had_ to use that... I'm not gonna complain too much, because he's a better writer than I am (like, a bajillion times better), and I didn't have Romans in mind. The whole Roman thing is a really cool twist, and I like it. ;] So, yeah. Great book. I might still write that fic about Percy and Annabeth's daughter, too. Being back in the world of demigods is making me want to keep going...we shall see.

But _The Lost Hero_ has given me another idea...

Sorry about that little rant. I'm done. You can read chapter two now!

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><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Two: A Picture's Worth**

I stared at him. His head tilted and I could just make out the menacing grin adorning his face. His lips stretched out far too much, like the scar of a Chelsea smile. His teeth glistened in the light of the morning. He raised one hand—though it was covered with so much hair I doubted it was a hand—and used two fingers to beckon to me. Though he was far away, a good hundred feet, hiding in the shade of the thin line of trees outside, I swore I heard his voice next to my ear, his breath on my face.

_Follow me._

I almost stepped forward in obedience when he began to turn away, but another, realer voice stopped me.

"Miss?"

The security guard was looking at me curiously.

"Miss, are you alright?"

Fang nudged me gently, pushing me back in line with reality. "Yeah, she's fine," he answered for me. "We're here to see Jeb Batchelder and Valencia Martinez."

The guard stared at me another moment, like he doubted Fang's reply on my condition. But he broke his gaze when he said to Fang, "Alright, do you have an appointment?"

I took the opportunity to steal a glance back to where he'd been. I scanned the trees, watching for the slightest move a shadow.

Nothing. He was gone.

"Yeah, we do." Fang pulled a rumpled piece of paper from his pocket. I didn't remember anything about an appointment. "Sorta."

It was a note from Jeb and my mom, asking us to be at the Office at a certain time. We had six minutes.

The guard squinted, taking a good look at the note. "I guess it will do." He refolded the paper and handed it back to Fang. "Turn left once you get inside and take the elevator to the seventh floor. It shouldn't be too hard to find them after that, but ask the secretary if you need help."

Fang nodded, not bothering to tell the guy that we'd been here enough times to know where we were going. "Thank you, sir." Then he grabbed my hand, like he was afraid I would wander off or something, and led me inside.

"Are you okay?" he asked me the instant we were in the elevator, alone.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just spaced out is all."

It wasn't a complete lie, but it was enough of one for Fang to know I was hiding something.

His eyes focused on me intently, his jaw set. He almost said something else, but the elevator doors opened on the fourth floor to let in more passengers.

I recognized one of them. She was an intern on the seventh floor, Jeb's floor. Maybe my age, probably a bit younger, with amber-colored hair. I could never remember her name, but she knew us, too, and Fang wasn't as forgetful as I.

"Hey, Max, Fang." She smiled wide, her emerald eyes twinkling when she looked at Fang.

Fang smiled back forcefully. At least, I hope it was forcefully, and out of politeness. "Hi, Gwen."

Right. Gwendolyn. That was her name. Gwen, for short.

"You guys here to see Mr. Batchelder?"

"Yup."

The doors opened onto our floor, and I hoped that would save Fang and me from further conversation with Gwen.

No such luck.

I still tried, though: I took Fang's hand and tugged him out of the elevator as quickly as I could. "It was nice seeing you, Gwen," I said fakely. "But we've got to go."

"Oh, well, this is where I'm getting out, too." Gwen stepped out of the elevator right after us.

I tried not to frown too much.

"So how are you guys?" I could tell she was mainly directing the question at Fang, so I didn't reply.

"Good," was all Fang said. I'd have to thank him later.

We turned into Jeb's office, but Gwen was still on our tail. I almost turned around and snapped at her to bug off, but Fang, reading my thoughts, elbowed my subtly.

"Good morning, Max, Fang." Jeb peered around us, looking at our follower curiously. "Gwen."

Gwen smiled sheepishly. "Good morning, Mr. Batchelder. I have the copies you wanted." She laid down, at the corner of his desk, the tall pile of papers she'd been carrying.

Jeb nodded at her. "Thank you, Gwen." A dismissal.

She bowed her head slightly, out of respect, glanced at Fang one last time, and left.

"Glad you guys could make it," Jeb said, not looking up from his work.

"What's the agenda?" I asked him.

"Well, Val and I have some stuff for you to look at."

"Pertaining to…?"

"What else? We've gotten a hold of more photos of the base we're up against."

"You guys still haven't explained why we're looking at a building. It's really quite aggravating. Personally, I'd like to see what's _inside_," I huffed.

"All in good time, Max. We'll get there."

"I thought you weren't calling the shots anymore."

"I'm not. I'm just relaying to you what the boss said."

"Well, he's your boss, not mine. I'm my own boss, remember?"

Jeb sighed. "Yeah, I remember. But she's in charge of this whole thing."

"Whatever. Let's see what you've got." It wasn't every day that I passed up a chance to pick a fight with Jeb.

Jeb unlocked a drawer at the bottom of his desk, right next to the floor, and reached in, grabbing a manila folder. He tossed it onto his cluttered desk. "Knock yourselves out. It might interest you more than you think."

Fang and I stepped forward and I lifted the cover of the folder. The first picture showed the building from the outside. It wasn't anything I'd never seen before. Jeb and my mom had been obsessing over this building for months, and all I'd seen were pictures of it from the outside, always the same, unchanging. They had divulged zero information about its location. For all I knew the building was down the street or in Zimbabwe.

"This one looks familiar," I said of the next one.

Fang chuckled. "I think they _all_ look the same."

Jeb glanced over. "That's because you've seen those ones already." He took the two we'd looked at, and the next half a dozen, and flipped them face down. A brand new photo was before my eyes. "_These_ are what you should be looking at."

Fang held it up so we could get a closer look. It was the building, but we could see writing on a wall, over what looked like an entrance or exit. I couldn't read the words; they were composed of characters, not letters.

But that wasn't the most fascinating detail of the photograph.

"You see it, right?" I asked Fang.

In response he grabbed the next photo and looked closely. "It's here, too," he whispered.

He was right. Bottom right, there was a blurred figure. At least, he was blurred in the photo I was holding. Still, I could make out a couple distinct features.

Like, for instance, the ears poking out of his head.

Or, say, the snout.

This was no man.

"Here," Fang said, handing me the picture he had. "This one's clearer, but you see less of him."

Though I could only see half of the figure, walking away, I couldn't mistake the fur covering his skin.

Before Fang or I could give this creature a name, Jeb told us, "There's more."

Amazingly, with the next picture, it got worse.

Center left, there was a pair white wings, speckled with brown and tan. Unfortunately, that wasn't the only thing the feathers were speckled with: blood. I could tell some of the brown was unnatural. Dried blood and some fresh blood.

Of course, these wings weren't detached. That would've been sickening. I could see the person's entire backside as she walked away, the wings partially tucked in. There was a wisp of hair, blondish hair, long enough to make me think it was a girl. I could only see some blond. Most of her hair was coated in red, and it was not hair dye. Her body had the curves of a girl, like the curves I'd discovered forming along my own torso years ago, the ones that had started out looking more like lumpy deformities than curves. She wasn't walking off the view, like the previous figure. She was still in full range of whatever camera had captured her image. In her right hand, hanging idly, was a humongous gun.

The wings, however, were the biggest attention-grabbers. They held Fang's eyes.

"The last one is probably the most interesting," Jeb commented, unfazed by our reactions.

I reached towards the folder this time, picking up the single sheet of paper left, the only one we hadn't yet looked at. Jeb's words didn't fail me: it definitely _was_ the most interesting.

"Look," I muttered, pulling Fang's attention away from the bird girl and to…the bird girl. She was in the last photo, too. But she wasn't alone.

Center stage, two figures. The bird girl struggling against someone else. Her face was turned away from the camera in a blur, her gun a few feet away, lying in the dirt. It was a fuzzyy enough photo that her entire head was just a mix of a dull brown color, the color on her wings, dried blood. I could see her arms reaching toward her opponent.

Her opponent was of the male variety, in case you're wondering. I recognized him, too. It was the pale brown hair that tipped me off at first, and then I looked closer and saw the silvery blue eyes. I could almost hear Nudge saying again, "They gave him the cute gene," even if I disagreed with that particular statement.

Omega.

And, from the looks of it, Omega was winning the fight against bird girl.

"What's he doing there?" I breathed, but Fang heard.

"You recognize him?" he asked in surprise, like he was wondering if Omega was some ex-boyfriend I had hidden.

Eww.

"Yeah. Part of Generation Omega. Maybe all of Generation Omega."

"Correct, Max," Jeb said. "He is called Omega."

"And who's the girl?" Fang asked. "The one whose butt he's kicking?"

"We don't know. Couldn't get a good enough picture."

"What are they doing there?" I repeated. "Outside that building?"

"We haven't been watching it for nothing." Jeb checked his watch. "Come on. We have a meeting to get to."

Jeb took the four pictures from us, tucking them back in the manila folder with all the other photos.

"What about the Eraser?" Fang asked, referring to the first two pictures.

Jeb was almost out the door. "Come on. We're going to be late."

Puzzled and reluctant, Fang and I followed the ever-cryptic Jeb. Hopefully, he would lead us to enlightenment.

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><p>AN: I'm glad to see some familiar pennames on the reviews. I'm really happy you guys came back for round three. I shall do my best to not fail you guys.<p>

But will you do your best to send me REVIEWS?


	3. The Call

My last day of school was yesterday. I am now officially a senior. :D At least, that's how I see it. And summer...that means that I now get to stay up till whatever time I want and sleep till I can't sleep no more. I love summer.(:

This is good for you guys, too. I'm gonna write, write, write!

Enjoy chapter three.

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><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Three: The Call**

Jeb held the door of the conference room open for us. Fang and I stepped inside and found a long table surrounded by chairs, of the twirly, cushiony variety. Most of them were filled.

"Hi, Max!" Lux grinned at me from her seat by Angel, who looked away from me. Lux was taking advantage of the spinning quality of her chair.

Everyone else from the flocks was there as well. Iggy had made himself at home, leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table. My mom was across from him, engaged in a conversation with Izumi. Evidently, they were supposed to be here.

Jeb took the empty seat by my mother, leaving Fang and I standing in the doorway. "Is she here yet?" Jeb asked my mom, ignoring Izzy.

My mom shook her head, but didn't turn to look at him.

Jeb glanced up at us. "Go ahead. Sit." It was more an order than anything.

Fang took the available seat by Pepin, which left only the two end seats open. One of them was by Fang, but it felt wrong to take it.

Fang noticed my hesitation. "You're in charge," he told me. "You deserve to sit there."

I bit my lip. "If you say so…"

"I do. And I thought you quit biting your lip."

I rolled my eyes, sitting down. I stayed on the edge, though. I couldn't get comfortable, not in that seat.

The door on the other end of the room opened and closed, allowing just enough time for a tall woman with cropped black hair to step inside. She sat down directly across from me, at the other end, without a word. I couldn't completely make her out, but I hadn't failed to notice that she'd wearing a knee-length, professional skirt, along with a blazer. Definitely the all-business type. She was hunched over, looking through some papers, squinting though her frameless glasses.

I also noticed that the room dropped silent the moment she entered the room, along with Iggy's feet; they fell to the floor silently. Everyone seemed to focus on her, waiting for her move the decide their own.

Except for me. I lead. I'm not very good at following.

I cleared my throat loudly, making sure she could hear me. She peered up at me over her glasses. Jeb shot me a what-are you-thinking look.

I ignored him. "Excuse me, but I'd rather not be here all day," I told the woman.

She neatly stacked the papers she'd been looking through. "He was right: you are straightforward."

I let my hands join in front of me. "I can be."

"Well, I suppose I should introduce myself."

"Please do. I don't like talking to strangers."

The corners of Fang's lips tugged upwards. Iggy openly snickered. But the woman ignored my sarcasm.

"My name is Paige Morgan. I have been put in charge of the Maximum Ride Project."

"The what?"

"The Maximum Ride Project."

I turned to Jeb. "'The Maximum Ride Project'? Really?"

"What would you have suggested?"

"Whatever. So tell me, Paige Morgan, just how much do you know about this…project?"

"I know everything from the time you were created until this moment."

I seriously doubted that, but I decided not to say, because the last thing I wanted was some business lady prying into my personal life.

"Alright. And why, if I may ask, have you been put in charge?"

"I was appointed to succeed your father three months ago, as it was determined that he was too emotionally connected to this project."

"And it only took you guys, what, eighteen years to figure that out?"

That seemed to bite at her ankles. She gave me a hard look over the top of her glasses. "Believe you me, Maximum, this project is about to see some big changes."

"As long as those changes don't involve me being called 'Maximum.'"

Paige stood up. "Let us get down to business." She started walking around the table, giving each of us a once-over. I seriously hoped that Gazzy had found something better to wear than his Hawaiian shorts.

"Everyone on your team has had a serious background check. We can't afford another mistake like Maya Dogum. Unfortunately, we could not get very much information on any of your flocks."

"Fang and I can vouch for them. They're all good guys."

She stopped pacing, glancing at me, and then at Fang. "And you are sure of this because…?"

"We're a family. You can't have a family without trust. And I trust each member of my flock and Fang's flock with my life."

"And you?" she asked Fang.

"I trust them all, too," he answered solemnly.

"I assume more than one person in this room also trusted Maya Dogum."

Ouch.

"I rarely make mistakes, Paige—can I call you Paige? And I certainly don't make the same ones twice."

"If you say so. I think a little humility would do you good."

I flared up, of course. "Excuse me?"

"You may call me Morgan, and then I shall consider calling you by whatever name you desire."

"Why are we here? Because I seriously doubt it's to analyze my personality."

"You are correct, though that would no doubt be a fascinating thing to discuss. We are here to discuss your next mission."

Iggy raised his hand. "Um, before we go on, can I just ask what exactly the Maximum Ride Project is?"

Paige seemed to suppress a sigh. "It is basically everything pertaining to the human-avian hybrid called Maximum Ride, and the other genetic hybrids she has encountered."

I didn't like being referred to as though I wasn't there.

"Now, the two of you"—Paige gestured at Fang and me—"already have some idea of what is going on."

"Actually, I haven't the foggiest."

"Yes, you do. You have been looking at the pictures for weeks."

Oh. Those.

"Those pictures are the results of a strenuous operation taking place, one that has proved fatal for some."

"Fatal?" Nudge asked.

"As in, some have died because of it."

Nudge opened her mouth again, probably to tell Paige that she knew fatal meant deadly, but Paige kept right on talking.

"The pictures Batchelder possesses have come to us from half a dozen different undercover photographers, none of whom have been heard from after they transmitted the photos. We assume they are dead. We are lucky to have the photographs.

"The photos we have reveal some disturbing things."

"But where were the photos taken?"

"They are of the outside of an enemy stronghold in south central Asia. I cannot be any more specific than that."

"And this is pertinent because…?"

"You know very well why it is pertinent, Maximum. You should recognize some of the figures in the photographs."

I gulped. She was right, and she knew it.

"Would you care to pass them around, Batchelder?" Paige suggested, ignoring my lack of response.

Jeb nodded and handed the pictures to Nudge, sitting across from him. Nudge opened the folder carefully, like she thought it would disintegrate or blow up. When it didn't, she sighed quietly in relief and flipped through the photos.

I knew what they were, of course. The first few just showed the outside of the building, the same entrance shot at a dozen different angles. Nudge's face grew increasingly disappointed with each page she turned. I knew she wanted something more.

She got it, pausing when she saw the first picture Fang and I had seen this morning. The Eraser, walking out of sight. Her pause grew longer with each of the last four pictures, saving the longest for last. She recognized Omega, too.

"How…?" she asked as Artemis gently took the folder from her.

"We do not know what it is exactly. The two photographers that sent those last four photos have not been heard from. We presume they have joined their colleagues in death."

The pictures went faster after that, as everyone now knew that the good stuff was in the back. Fang passed them to me without looking, and I let them continue on to Gazzy without a second glance.

Once the folder had reached everyone, skipping over my mom, Jeb, and Paige, Paige resumed her little speech. I hoped someone had filled in Iggy on what he was missing.

"Now for a little background. For some months now, the United States has been fighting a war close to the location these photographs were taken."

"Um, wouldn't we have heard about that?" Dylan inquired.

"You should have, but the government does not want that. The federal government has gone to every length to keep the citizens unaware. The only people who know about this war are the people who launched it. The soldiers there fighting, dying, are unaware of where they are and what they are fighting for."

"What _are_ they fighting for?" asked Izumi.

"Power. Technology. Oil. There is no way to know for sure. But we suspect is has something to do with increasing experimentation in Asia."

I spoke up. "What do you mean 'experimentation'?"

"Someone is funding research in Asia, research that would be illegal here in the States. The kind of research that birthed eleven of you here in this room."

"Mutants. They're making mutants," Iggy breathed, aghast.

"Yes. That is what we believe."

"So the government is fighting to stop them, right?" Pepin asked.

"I am afraid not."

There was a collective, "What?"

"We believe the government may be fighting for the results, trying to steal the research."

Iggy argued, "But you just said that's illegal—"

"In the States."

"And morality?" Izzy challenged, grinding her teeth together.

"Morals are often overlooked when science is involved."

"And what does this have to do with us?" I questioned. "Why do we need to worry about this when it's half a world away?"

"Because, Maximum, it won't be so far for much longer. You see, we are not precisely sure that that is why U.S. troops are fighting. We hope we are wrong, but we can never be too careful. We need to know for sure. And if we are right, then the research will find its way here.

"The government has asked for our assistance in this. We have decided to take advantage of their request. We will be sending you and your flock to help them fight, but we also need you to snoop around. Find out why there is a war going on. Find out what makes it so important."

"Why me? Why us?"

"You are tamed, in a word. You understand the right and wrongs of this world. You have morals."

Fang cleared his throat. "What about my flock, ma'am?"

Paige turned to Fang, seeing him for what I was sure was the first time in this entire meeting. "Ah, yes. Fang, is it not?"

"Yes, Fang."

"You and your flock will be going to Washington to see what you can learn there. We need to find out who is backing this war, see if we can maybe stop it at the source."

"So you're asking us to be spies based on a few photographs? Ever heard of Photoshop?" Fang disputed.

Paige smiled humorlessly. "Our photographers gave their lives to send us these photos. We are choosing to trust in their deaths."

Then she turned back to me, like she was completely forgetting her little conversation with my boyfriend.

"So, Maximum: Do you accept this mission?"

I tried not to bite down on my lip, looking around at my flock. Iggy, Dylan, Nudge, Gazzy, Angel. Their expressions told me nothing of their opinions on this.

I swallowed a sigh, not wanting Paige to see my exasperation.

"Yes. I accept."

"You leave in five days."

* * *

><p>I am now the proud owner of two <em>Percy Jackson<em> books. I saw them all for sale in Target last week and, even though I've read every single one, I was like, "MUST. HAVE." And then I found numbers three and four in the Dollar Bookstore. EEE! I am now one step closer to writing a PJO fic.

Ahem. So, back to this story. Hope you guys are intrigued. If you aren't, then I have failed in my mission as a writer. *sniffle*

I'm kinda mentally beating myself up right now, as I did some things yesterday that make me seriously question my intelligence. I need some distraction. Care to distract me and make me feel better? REVIEW!


	4. Whispers in the Dark

PJO fans, I am pleased to tell you that my [only] fic for Percy Jackson just won the Veritas Award for Best Oneshot. *happy dance*

However, all my readers, I'm not so pleased to inform you that my SAT scores did not come out how I would have liked. I got my highest score in math, which is not what I want colleges to look at me for. *sigh*

Here's chapter four.

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><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Four: Whispers in the Dark**

The last night I had in America, I climbed out my window and stretched out on the roof, gazing up at the stars. It was already late, as Fang and I had let our flocks stay up much longer than normal. We didn't see any harm in it because we all knew that we wouldn't be together again for some time. Exhausted, Nudge had knocked out the moment she'd gotten into bed, while I suspected others in the house, namely Iggy and Ella, were still awake.

I heard the swish of wind and feathers, barely audible, even in the still night. Fang landed on my windowsill below. I sat up, watching him, trying not to laugh. I could picture him stumbling around the bedroom, looking for me. He poked his head out the window a minute later, looking out into the night. "Max?" he called quietly.

I let my lips form a silent smirk.

Fang heaved himself back up onto the windowsill, preparing to take off, but I leaned off the roof, reached down, and grabbed his arms.

"What the—" he protested as I dragged him up onto the roof. He even struggled a bit, but not enough that I ended up dropping him. He stopped once I'd laid him down and crawled on top of him.

He smiled. "Max."

I grinned. "Hi."

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"I could ask the same of you."

"You're the one with a big day ahead tomorrow, not me."

"But I'm not tired," I argued.

"You should still rest, and you know it."

"But I'd rather stay up here, with you." I caressed his cheek, brushing his hair away from his face. He let his eyes slide shut, like he was soaking in my touch. I couldn't help myself: I kissed him. Deeply, passionately, whatever you wanna call it.

"Max," he sighed.

I kissed him again, savoring the feeling of our lips touching in such an electrifying way.

"You really should sleep, Max," he murmured against my lips.

I broke away. "How about not."

"Why?"

"Why are you insisting I sleep?"

"Because I know that you need your rest."

"I'll manage."

"I'd prefer you not walk around like a zombie tomorrow."

"I won't. Let's just stay up here."

Fang let his head fall back against the shingles. My hands folded on his chest, while his lingered unconsciously near my hips. "So feisty tonight."

"Just the usual."

"No, more so tonight, I think."

I leaned down, not kissing him, but brushing my cheek against his. In his ear, I whispered, "I don't know when I'll see you again."

"Of course. That's what's eating at you."

"Yeah."

I felt his hands move up my sides until they framed my face. "Look at me, Max." He pulled my face close to his, looking into my eyes with an intensity he rarely displayed. "We **will **see each other again, and soon. You need to go save the world; I get that. I'm gonna be helping you from this end."

"But what if…what if one of us doesn't come back?"

"Max," he began firmly, "I have no intention of dying on this stupid mission. And you, you're Maximum Ride. You're not allowed to die."

I chuckled half-heartedly. "Well, that's a relief I guess."

"You're not gonna die." This time, it sounded more like he was assuring himself of this.

"Okay. I won't."

"Promise me that, Max. Promise you'll come back in one piece."

"I can't—"

"Yes, you can. Please, Max. Please. Swear it to me, or I don't think I'll be able to let you go tomorrow."

"I promise I'll come back. I swear I will."

He closed his eyes and brought my forehead down to meet his. "Thank you."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"How do I know you won't get hurt or something?"

"I just told you, I don't intend to—"

"Life doesn't always turn out the way you _intend_ it to. And I don't know how much danger you'll be in, but I do know you'll be facing it alone."

"I won't be alone."

"What I mean is, you'll be facing it without me."

"I swear, Max, I'll be okay."

I kissed his lips lightly. "Good."

"Now that we've made sure we won't die anytime soon, we can have a little adventure."

"Adventure my ass. I have a feeling that this Paige lady will make us work our feathery butts off."

"Then I'll just have to have some adventure for the both of us. Washington, D.C. I haven't been there in a long time."

"Yeah, since that field trip, right? The one we went on with that school Anne made us go to?"

"Yup. Four and a half years ago, I think. I wonder if it's changed at all."

"That city has been standing for, what, a thousand years?"

"Ha-ha, probably not even three hundred, love."

"Whatever. However long it's been around, I doubt it's changed much in that time. What could possibly be different now?"

"I guess I'll just have to see."

"I have a feeling you won't be as welcome as we were the last time. They're probably much nicer to school kids on field trips than they are to potentially suspicious-looking spies."

"We'll see."

"Virginia was a heck of a place, wasn't it?" I asked, reminiscing.

"Yeah, it was," Fang replied, his voice sounding slightly dazed.

And that was when I remembered something else about Virginia: the girl. I didn't remember her name—and still don't—and I could hardly recall the nickname I'd tacked onto her…

But I couldn't forget the color of her hair, the fierce red. The girl who'd given Fang his first real kiss. It had been years ago, but my stomach still curled in jealousy.

"What is it?" he asked, probably feeling the tension in my muscles.

"Nothing," I lied, but my voice came out too steely for 'nothing' to be plausible.

"Max…"

I couldn't resist him for long, not when he had his bottomless eyes fixed on me like that. "Just remembering some…fun things. From Virginia."

"Doesn't sound fun," he muttered. "Not when it's got you pissed off enough for you to try pulling out my hair."

I realized he was right; my fingers had tightened around a lock of his hair. I let go hastily. "Sorry."

"But seriously, what's eating at you?"

So I asked, "You remember that red-haired girl? You and her had a bit of a…fling, I suppose."

His eyebrows crinkled for a moment, like he almost didn't remember. But I didn't miss the recognition in his eyes. He remembered her.

"Lissa," He said quietly. "She was a weird one."

I choked on a laugh.

"But I wasn't the only one who got hot and heavy in Virginia." He cocked a brow. "Was I?"

Blushing, I vaguely recalled kissing some guy on Anne's porch, then going inside to find a pissed-as-hell Fang.

"I guess," I told him. "But I don't remember his name."

"I don't either. Stan, or something like that. Whatever the name, he'll always be a wiener to me."

I didn't restrain my laugh this time. Beneath me, Fang's chest shook with laughter as well.

"I was never what's-her-face's biggest fan, either. Back then or now."

"I'm sure Lissa's moved by now. I actually paid some attention to her. She told me that she wanted to move as soon as she could."

"And you remember that?"

"Why not? She thought I was a normal kid. I figured I'd act it."

I couldn't keep the venom out of my voice as I grumbled, "I bet Gwen thinks you're normal, too."

Fang looked at me, surprised. "What?"

"Gwen," I repeated. "That stupid intern who always hits on you."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure she suspects that I'm _not_ normal. Besides, you're always with me. She knows I'm not available."

"And when I'm gone? What then?" I don't know why I asked the question. It was unnecessary on _so_ many levels.

"Max, seriously? You're going away into a freaking _warzone_, and you're worried about some girl hitting on me?"

"What can I say? My priorities have always been mixed up."

"Well, there's nothing to worry about. I'm yours and no one else's."

I should know that, I told myself. But the next word, a soft whisper, escaped anyhow.

"Promise?"

Fang reached up and kissed my lips gently. "Promise. Forever and always."

Forever has no right to be as short as it tends to be.

* * *

><p>Um...So I haven't written anything for this in almost a week. I have a deadline looming, and I'm positive I won't make it. Oh well...<p>

But that won't stop you guys from REVIEWING, now, will it?(:


	5. The Departure

Sooo...I'm seriously wondering where two of you got the idea that Max and/or Fang are gonna cheat. I swear I wasn't trying to suggest that. But now that you've mentioned it, it doesn't sound like a half bad idea...KIDDING! No, don't worry, that's not gonna happen. I have enough drama planned.

THANK YOU to all who reviewed last chapter. You're infinitely awesome.(:

Alas, I can continue writing this fic. I've been working on editing my novel (!) these past couple weeks, and I'll be ordering a proof copy shortly. :D I've been wanting to work on this, but I've controlled myself. And now I can write, write, write. And you can read, read, read!

* * *

><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Five: The Departure**

"MAAAAAX!" Nudge caterwauled in my ear. The shriek woke me violently, and I narrowly missed her when my hand darted out.

"What!" I snapped, turning over sharply. I glowered at her, daring her to speak.

"Get up already! Geez, I thought you'd _never_ get up! You were sleeping like a rock!"

She was right: I couldn't remember dreaming.

"What's the rush?" I demanded, yawning as my memory shuffled into some coherent order.

"Our flight leaves in, like, three hours! We have to be at the airport in an hour!"

Crap. Airport, airplane, mission to save the world for the umpteenth time, Asia, leaving.

Some coherent order that was.

"Is anyone else up?" I asked, though I sincerely doubted that anyone would have been able to sleep through Nudge's wailing.

"_Everyone_ else is up," she corrected. "And Fang's already brought his gang over. Everyone's downstairs, ready to go."

How did I oversleep?

Right. I spent half the night on the roof talking to Fang and making out with him.

Not that Nudge needed to know that.

I sat up, shooing Nudge out of the room, glad that I had packed my stuff before. Not that it was much: a few clean pairs of jeans, an extra pair of shoes, some shirts of questionable cleanliness (I was sure I'd seen a fudge stain on one of them…), and some socks and undies. My toothbrush would go in shortly.

I ditched the pajamas, leaving them on the floor in a little pile. They would still be there when I got back. Why worry?

I pulled on a pair of jeans from the hamper (they didn't smell) and a shirt from my bed. I'm not the most organized person around, but you already knew that.

I used my trusty hair tie to pull back my hair and dashed out, taking my backpack. A quick trip to the bathroom and I was downstairs, leaving my bag in the hall.

Nudge hadn't lied: everyone else was there, awake and ready. The atmosphere held an unsettling heaviness, though everyone tried to hide the fact that we didn't know when we'd see each other again. They weren't succeeding.

Ella was sitting on Iggy's lap, her head resting on his shoulder. He rubbed circles into her back, his lips at her ear. Whatever he was saying, it did nothing to soothe the worried look from her face.

Nudge was curled up against Artemis, her head resting in his lap. His fingers played with her hair, and for once, they seemed to have nothing to say to each other.

I could hear Dylan and Izumi talking in the kitchen, though it sounded more like on and off arguing. A raised voice here, a touch of silence there. I knew neither of them wanted the rest of us to see just how much this mission would affect them.

Angel and Lux sat on the big armchair, sharing the space. Angel's head was on Lux's shoulder, like she was ready to drift to sleep. Seeing her there, with her best friend, it was easy to believe that Angel was the innocent ten-year-old she appeared to be.

Gazzy and Pepin were whispering to each other, always cooking up something new. It almost looked like Gazzy was having Pep commit something to memory, something important he would need to remember. I had a feeling that they would be fine, and that they would probably end up saving our skins…again.

Of course, I couldn't keep myself from looking for my other half. The living room was crowded with our feathery friends, but I didn't see him anywhere…

Fang walked out of my mom's study with a grave expression, closely followed by my mom and Jeb. Everyone's faces had managed to melt into serious masks over time, as we could never give much away. Fang was serious, but rarely in such an extreme as he was now.

He lightened up when he saw me, his eyes twinkling. "Max," he murmured. He walked straight at me, seeming to forget that we were surrounded by all our friends and family. I could tell he forgot because when he was half a foot away from me, he gripped my arms, pulled me to him, leaned down, and kissed me on the mouth.

Did I mention we were surrounded by _all_ of our friends and family? Fang isn't big on PDA.

That was the moment Paige strutted through the front door. I heard the click of the knob, heard her steps. She came up right behind me and cleared her throat.

That didn't stop Fang for another moment, though. When he did finally break the kiss, he didn't back away. He rested his forehead on mine and whispered, so quietly that I barely caught the words, _"I love you."_

I closed my eyes and nodded my head. I kissed him again, briefly, my silent return of the words, before turning around to face Paige Morgan. She was not amused that I had snubbed her for my boyfriend.

"I hope you are ready to depart."

The rest of my flock trickled over to where I was, standing beside me, like they always had. Bags shifted in their hands.

They were ready.

I looked Paige directly in the eye. "We're ready."

She grinned humorlessly. The expression looked misplaced on her face. I couldn't imagine her being truly happy.

"Then let us be on our way." Paige looked past us, to Jeb. "Are you ready, Batchelder?"

Jeb nodded.

When no one moved, Paige's false smile faltered. "I shall wait outside," she decided, leaving us to say our final goodbyes.

The moment she was gone, when all went flying into each others' arms. Not just the ones we were closest to: every member of my flock embraced everyone who was staying behind. Which means that, yes, I hugged Izumi, though it was about the shortest and most awkward hug of my life.

Fang wouldn't let me go. He kissed my hair. "Please keep your promise, Max."

I caught his eye. "Fang, don't worry. I survived without you for two years. I'll be able to handle a few weeks."

"I hope you're back for your birthday," he whispered.

I quirked an eyebrow. "Did you have something planned?"

He grinned. "Maybe."

"Max," Jeb started.

"Coming!" I responded.

I embraced Fang once more, my lips at his ear. I closed my eyes and breathed, "No matter what happens, I love you."

"I know," he mumbled back. "I know."

{[(/*\)]}

Have I ever told you how much I _hate_ plane rides? I'm sure I've mentioned it before. A million things can go wrong when you're so high up in this unstable metal tube. I don't even know how the hell they manage to make the metal fly…

Things that can possibly go wrong:

Turbulence. A few big gusts of wind and you're spiraling down to the earth, wishing you'd gone Amtrak.

Engine malfunctions. Once the engines are gone…well, see above.

Flammability. I mean, planes run on gas, right? Like a car, just times a million. One little tiny spark in the wrong place and KA-BOOM.

Two words: Nine Eleven.

You're also extremely vulnerable. Big things come in small packages. Say there's some razor-wire or something hanging around, floating in the middle of nowhere. You can't see that from the cockpit, raptor vision or no raptor vision.

Two more words: The Gasman.

And, probably the most terrifying thing of all to encounter on a long ass plane ride with _my_ flock: BOREDOM.

Add boredom to the Gasman, and I'll take the razor wire any day.

Given the choice, I would've flown on my own trusty wings, which would have worked even before the Wright brothers came along. But I wasn't given the choice. According to Paige, there was no time for that.

But somehow, I managed to get lucky. That's not something that happens very often. I can count every single one of my lucky moments on one hand. But lucky I was.

How lucky?

Very lucky.

Gazzy knocked out before we were off the runway. Iggy listened to music the whole time. Nudge and Angel connected the headphones and watched the airline-provided movie. Dylan made an appointment with a pillow shortly after the Gasman. And I didn't see Jeb and Paige for the entire ride.

I'm not gonna tell you how long the plane ride was, as that could give away where we were sent. I'm also not gonna give you every single detail, as I'm afraid you would shoot yourself out of boredom. I almost did.

I didn't trust the hunk of metal enough to fall asleep. But I couldn't keep my eyes from sliding shut every few minutes. After all, I had gotten a grand total of two hours of sleep the night before.

In retrospect, I would have been better off falling asleep completely or staying entirely conscious. This is one spectrum in which I'm happier at one end, not the middle.

I'm sure everyone's experienced that half-asleep state. When you're half-asleep, your mind plays tricks on your eyes. Or maybe it's the other way around… Whatever it is, it screws you over.

It sure screwed me over.

About halfway through the lovely plane ride, my eyelids began to move to a very steady, but slow, beat. Upppppppppp. Downnnnnnnnnn. Uppppppppppp. Downnnnnnnnnn.

Up.

Who the hell was that staring at me?

Down.

I swore he hadn't been there a moment ago.

Up.

Was he actually coming closer…?

Down.

No way. Just my imagination.

Up.

My, my, Grandmother, what large teeth you have…

Down.

Of course, his teeth weren't _that_ sharp. They couldn't be.

Up.

Someone hadn't shaved in a while.

Down.

But most men have beards…not…fur…

Up.

He was definitely too close. Why had I chosen the aisle seat?

Down.

Right. So I could get off the plane fast when it landed.

Up.

Why was he breathing in my face?

Down.

What the hell was that stroking my face? It didn't feel like a finger.

Up.

My eyes didn't close again for a long time. They were locked directly onto his, his big, black, soulless eyes. I couldn't break away.

His claw ran down my face again, enough pressure to intimidate, to let me feel the sharpness, but not to cut. Injury was not his intention.

He grinned at me, showing off rows upon rows of ugly, yellow, ragged teeth. If he hadn't been so frightening, I would've called him the Cheshire cat's cousin, in canine form.

No, lupine, I reminded myself. He was part wolf. Lupine.

This was about when my sleepy mind processed the fact that I should probably _not_ be letting this loser get away with bursting my space bubble.

I smirked at him and kicked out my foot, hoping to catch him off guard. My leg passed right through him. Then he leaned down, his snout smushed against my nose, and growled, "Good luck, little birdie."

He was so close, I couldn't see it coming. My eyes were still consumed in his bottomless irises. That's all they were: irises. Just one solid pool of black. He had me trapped in his gaze, distracted, overwhelmed. I only knew it was coming because I felt the air moving out of the way. His hand, paw, whatever, swinging at my face, claws out—

I jerked forward in my seat, making to run, but my seat belt stopped me. Nudge glanced at me briefly. Where had she been a moment ago? Why hadn't she stopped him?

Looking back at the little TV screen, she asked, "Have a nice nap?"

I blinked a few times, rapidly. Nap? What…?

I didn't see him in front of me, I realized. He was gone.

Just a dream. The Eraser didn't exist in reality. He couldn't, not really.

But it hadn't felt like a dream. Not one stinking bit.

And it wasn't just my dreams. I'd seen him in broad daylight, when I was wide awake. I preferred not to think that I was losing my marbles, but nobody else had given any indication that _they_ were being stalked by a rogue Eraser.

I was alone in this. And I had a feeling that I wouldn't be able to escape him on my own.

* * *

><p>DISCLAIMER: Max's comments on the razor wire were purely inspired by MR7, <em>ANGEL<em>, because I thought the whole concept was pretty out there, and kinda stupid. Sorry, JP.

REVIEWS are like the tan I so badly need. REVIEW!


	6. The War

To **xXjaziXx**: Yes, you were one of the people wondering about Max and Fang's relationship. Two, all six of those sound like marvelous ideas. If you would like to post the original stories somewhere, I would suggest **FictionPress** or **Inkpop**. You seem to have good control over grammar and spelling and such, so you should be good. Just don't overload yourself and try to write too many stories at once. You know your limit, and if you don't, you'll find out. Midnight Starlight sounds lovely, by the way. I'm not sure if the first chapter of any of the stories would fit into a review (there's a character limit, I believe), but I'm curious to read the fic about Cirque de Soleil. I haven't gotten into any good MR fics lately.(:

I just have to brag: I got the [BEAUTIFUL] proof copy of my first novel in the mail yesterday. *squeals* Hopefully, it is the first of many.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Six: The War**

I was almost expecting an armed escort to meet us at the airport. Whether it was paranoia or narcissism, I'd rather not discuss it.

As it happened, all we got for an escort was Jeb. Oh, and Paige. Can't forget her.

My legs were itching to move. Even though we were all sitting in the middle of the plane, I was among the first out. One of the flight attendants smiled. "Fear of flying?" she asked sympathetically. I nodded, not wanting to explain that I wasn't actually afraid of flying. Flying is my element. I was just unnerved by flying in a hunk of metal that a bunch of loonies had deemed safe. _Extremely_ unnerved.

Waiting for the rest of my flock, I half expected Fang to come up behind me and try to startle me. Then I remembered: no Fang. Fang was gone.

I almost quit the stupid mission right then and there. I almost turned around and got right back on that airplane. I could stand another long flight if it took me back to Fang. In fact, I _did_ turn on my heel, ready to make a break for it. I would've made it, too, if I hadn't tripped over Iggy, of all people. He agilely caught me as I spun hopelessly through the air.

Escape plan foiled. I was stuck there.

"You alright, Max?" Dylan asked, concern leaking into his voice.

I felt so entirely pathetic. "Yeah. My legs are just a bit stiff."

He nodded in understanding.

"Come," Paige ordered. Wasn't that _my_ job? "We must not linger. We must get to Headquarters."

I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to make sure she couldn't see.

There turned out to be a car waiting for us outside. The driver was standing on the curb next to the car. He nodded to Paige in acknowledgement. She ignored him.

Paige waited for all of us to get into the car before she stepped in, taking the seat closest to the door. The driver shut the door behind her.

"So where are we going?" I asked.

"We have set up Headquarters about twenty miles north of here, near the edge of what is being considered the battlefield. You and your flock will begin your training there, before we send you into battle."

I froze, and I swear I felt the rest of my flock stiffen. Jeb held on to his look of nonchalance.

"What the hell do you mean, send us to battle?"

"You were not created for the sidelines, Max. We intend to utilize your unique abilities. We intend to send you into battle."

"We didn't sign up for this. You never said _anything_ about sending us into the freaking battle! We're here to get information. That shouldn't involve battle."

"Did I forget to mention that, then?"

"Obviously."

"My apologies. It must have…slipped my mind."

"Not much for it to slip through," I heard Gazzy mutter. I shot him a displeased look, though I couldn't disagree with his statement. His comment made my lips twitch into what wanted to be a smile.

"As I was saying, you and your flock will begin training before we send you to retrieve the information. And yes, that retrieval will involve battle."

"Excuse me for being confused, but are we retrieving information from the mad scientists or our mad government?"

"Your first priority is to learn about the experiments. Then we figure out how our government intends to use this information."

I so far was not very happy with how things were unfolding. We'd been lied to, for one, and my decision to accept the mission had jeopardized the flock more than it should have.

We'd been turned from spies to soldiers.

{[(/*\)]}

"You will begin with basic combat."

"We already know basic combat," Iggy said, sounding incredibly bored. When I glanced over at him, he was picking at his nails…the nails he couldn't see.

"We shall see what you know and what you do not know," Paige insisted. I looked to Jeb, hoping he would vouch for us. He didn't comment.

Thanks a lot, Pops.

Needless to see, my flock and I had our dozen "instructors" pinned to the floor in half a minute.

Paige was unfazed. "Next," was all she said.

The training was supposed to take a week, minimum. Apparently Paige hadn't planned on us knowing what we were doing. Someone needed to do a bit more research.

We finished the first six courses in an hour, most of that hour being spent walking. The seventh and last course—

"No," I said firmly. "Hell no," I clarified when I saw Angel's eyes light up, mimicking her brother's.

"It is an essential part of your training," Paige repeated. Gazzy took a step into the room.

"I said _no_." My words were meant for both Gazzy and Paige. Gazzy got the message. "We don't do guns."

Paige pursed her lips. "Even the most stubborn of heroes must sometimes do things they would rather not do."

"No guns. No freaking way. The last time someone in my flock touched a gun, it got pointed at innocent people." I did my damnedest to keep my eyes from wandering to Angel. "No guns."

Paige locked her eyes onto mine in a brutal sort of staring contest. I refused to blink or look away. Paige Morgan caved first.

"Very well. You shall take the training when you change your mind."

"Don't hold your breath."

{[(/*\)]}

We followed Paige upstairs after that. I swore I would pump her for more information if necessary, as she didn't seem entirely willing to give specifics about our mission.

"The briefing room," Paige announced, ushering into a room not unlike the one I had accepted the mission in. But these chairs didn't look like the twirly kind, which added an almost palpable seriousness to the room's atmosphere.

"So what do we do in this lovely room?" I asked, my patience wearing thin.

"Sit. It is time you were more thoroughly briefed on your mission."

"Are we talking specificity here?"

"Indeed. Sit."

Not ones for taking orders from just anyone, my flock first glanced to me. I nodded imperceptibly. Well, it was imperceptible to Paige.

I took the chair at the head of the table. Paige sat directly across from me. The flock and Jeb filled in the blanks.

"Do please tell me _exactly_ what we're here for, and by 'exactly' I do mean _exactly_. You've already tricked us once, and we won't fall for it again."

"On the contrary, I did not trick you. It was you who failed to ask for details. However, even if you had asked for them, I would not have given them to you in front of your cohorts."

"Why not in front of Fang and his flock?"

"This is your mission, Maximum. Not his. He need not know about what it is you are going to attempt, as he may talk you out of it. In fact, he need not know everything about you, even though you may believe that."

"Who asked you for relationship advice? I'll tell him whatever the hell I want to tell him, whenever I want to tell it to him. You have no control over that."

"Actually, this mission is top secret. No one outside of this room may know about it, unless _I _approve of it. And I do not approve of your counterparts gaining knowledge of this mission."

"You're Jeb's boss, not mine. I'm not compelled to listen to you."

"You may think that now, Maximum, but I have my methods of persuasion. Do not make me implement them."

"You don't scare me."

"Then you are a foolish child."

"You know, I don't have to cooperate one bit. I can make this _extremely_ difficult for you, even more difficult than it is now."

Paige Morgan glared at me, her mouth frozen in a taut line. "And I, too, can make this difficult. Or I can make it worth your while."

An image popped up on the wall behind her, presumably being generated by some unseen projector.

It was an Eraser, much bigger and clearer than the other two pictures we had of the monsters.

"I believe you recognize this creature," Paige stated.

"What is it?" Iggy asked, whispering in my ear.

"Eraser."

"Great."

"Yes, we do," I told Paige.

The picture zoomed out, as it turned out to be part of a bigger image. The Eraser was standing in a sea of soldiers. _Human_ soldiers, on a battlefield. The worst part: there actually _was_ a battle going on in the photo, and the lone Eraser was wreaking havoc.

"Whatever experiments have been taking place, they are obviously more successful than we would like, and the creatures are powerful. This subject was released into battle, but it attacked soldiers from both sides. It would appear that our enemy is not fully in control."

"Who would send an Eraser into a war?"

"Someone smart," Dylan answered.

"What?"

"Think about it," he defended. "From what you guys have told me, they're quick, agile, strong. Perfect for battle, and you don't have to worry about whether or not they have families, you don't have to pay them, and you probably don't have to feed them."

"You are correct. It is a brilliant battle tactic, but we are unable to figure out which side the creature is supposed to be fighting for," Paige said.

"Which just makes it a sucky tactic," I remarked.

"Believe what you will, Maximum."

"So how did sending in the Eraser end?" Nudge asked.

The image changed, showing the Eraser's dead body. It was surrounded by countless human bodies, none of which appeared to be alive.

"It took snipers from both sides to kill the beast, but not before the creature had greatly reduced numbers on both sides."

"A few more of those bad boys and the war would be over in a heartbeat," Gazzy commented.

Paige cleared her throat, ignoring the words. "Your first mission will be to find where this Eraser came from. We have a hunch, but we cannot be certain."

"Hunches help. What do you think?" I hoped she would cough up more information _before_ deploying us.

The picture changed again, this time showing one of the dozen pictures I had seen before: the building, gray and eerie. I could make out the foreign characters above what looked like an entrance.

"We believe the creature came from here."

"I hope you guys have more than a vague idea of where this building is."

"We do. You will be escorted there to prevent any unfortunate losses."

"I think we'd be better off if we held our own on this."

"No. You will be escorted."

I chewed my lip. Fang wasn't there to tell me to stop. I had a bad feeling about taking an escort or two. Without the escorts, we could fly it, no biggie, and stay high enough to avoid bullets. But if she was gonna be so damn insistent…

"Fine." We would see how it played out, though I hoped it wouldn't work to her favor. She needed to learn a lesson, I decided, and if she wouldn't listen to me, well, that would make this much harder.

"Our escorts will lead you to the base. You will infiltrate and see if there is any way you can halt the production of these monsters."

"You have floor plans, I take it? Blueprints, names, more than photographs of a door?"

"Yes. We will give you the information we have once this meeting ends."

"_All_ of the information?" I pressed.

"All of the information."

"How long do we have?"

"You will leave as soon as you are ready. I ask that you prepare rapidly. I have a feeling that this Eraser"—the first photo flashed on the wall again—"is only the beginning."

What a crappy beginning.

* * *

><p>So tomorrow I leave to the California State Summer School for the Arts, where I will spend four weeks studying creative writing. Hopefully the others writers won't eat me alive. And hopefully there will be some visible improvement in my work.(:<p>

REVIEWS are like AIR CONDITIONING. It's hot here in L.A., and I don't like hot. SAVE ME! REVIEW!


	7. The Plan

I'm so far enjoying myself at CSSSA (the writing program thingy). However, I'm fairly pissed off as I write this. See, my parents called me a couple nights ago and told me they lost my cat. I mean, I'm not even gone a week, and they freaking lost my cat. Yeah, I know it sounds kinda stupid (and I have a feeling PMS may somehow be involved with my rage), but I mean, this my freaking cat, my snuggle buddy, my confidant. And they freaking lost her!

Sorry. Just had to get that out. Vent a little, ya know?

I will not distract further from reading the chapter. You may proceed.

* * *

><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Seven: The Plan**

Fang and his flock got lucky. They didn't have to board a flying, metal death trap, like Max and her flock. They got permission to fly Mother Nature's airline, while Ella and Dr. Martinez would meet them in D.C. Dr. M was their link to Paige Morgan, and therefore their link to Max. Then there was Ella, who refused to sit out on this adventure. Since she wasn't allowed to go with Max (though everyone knew she really wanted to go with Iggy), she insisted on tagging along to D.C.

Izumi was the first to land on the capital's ground. They'd chosen a small, deserted clearing just outside a tall building as their landing spot. From there, they would make their way to a predetermined rendezvous point.

Fang was the last to land. He quickly counted four heads besides his own, making sure no one had been left behind. Everyone was there: Izzy, Artemis, Lux, Pepin, Fang.

Izzy popped a stick of gum into her mouth and pulled her hair back. "So, which way do we go?"

Lux tugged at her pigtails. "Fang?"

A shadow of a smile danced across Fang's lips. This all felt so much like his life more than three years ago, when it was just them, before he took his flock to that little house in Arizona and fully introduced them to his chaotic life. It reminded him of a time when they were carefree, when they didn't have to save the world.

But Fang couldn't say they'd been happy.

At least, _he_ hadn't been happy.

Lux tugged on his sleeve. "Fang? You in there?"

Fang snapped out of his little reverie, grateful that Jeb had been teaching him how to put up mental blocks to keep the mind reader out of his head.

Fang glanced around quickly, spotting a street to his right. He gestured towards it with his head. "C'mon. Let's get out of here."

They fell back into their lineup, something they tended to do unconsciously from time to time. Izzy in the front, followed by Pepin, then Artemis, Lux, and finally, Fang. Fang hoped they just looked like five normal kids out for a walk, not five mutants on their way to plan an espionage mission.

Fang didn't fail to notice the three guys that checked out Izumi. The last one made a rude comment, and Izzy flipped him off, making Lux giggle. Fang was just relieved she didn't break the bastard's arm.

So much could go wrong. Fang had a feeling something _would_ go wrong. Nothing in his life ever went smoothly. It was just something that didn't happen. Fang wanted something to go wrong sooner rather than later, because then it could get fixed. Let a cop stop them and ask why they weren't in school. Let Lux trick some poor soul into giving her something he or she probably shouldn't give an eleven-year-old. Let Izumi beat up every guy in a ten-mile radius. Let Pepin steal a car and land them in jail. Let Artemis's mouth get them in trouble. Let _anything_ go wrong, as long as it happened in the next five minutes. After that, it could screw up the mission is disastrous ways.

Fang didn't know whether or not to be pleased when his flock reached the rendezvous without a hitch. Ella was waiting there, just as they'd agreed upon. She was sitting on a bench, listening to music and reading a book. Of course, if you watched her carefully, you would realize that her music player was off and that she hadn't turned a single page in half an hour. But no one cares to watch a plain-looking seventeen-year-old girl so closely.

Izumi was the only one to approach Ella, while the rest of the flock began to wander in separate directions. They greeted each other as maybe old friends would, hugging and smiling and laughing. Ella took out her earphones, closed her book, looped her arm through Izzy's, and led her away. Pepin and Lux casually followed them at a distance of fifteen feet. Fang opened his blocks a crack, just enough for Lux to send him a thought, the address of the safe house.

Lux, of course, being Lux, tried to do a bit more than that when she sent him the address ten minutes later. Fang closed things up again, shutting her out.

"Come on," he said to Artemis. "They've made it."

Fang had spent the last few days studying various maps of D.C. He knew where they were going and a dozen different ways to get there. He walked off in the opposite direction of Ella, opting for the long route. Artemis followed him without a question.

"Have you ever been here before?" Artemis asked after a few minutes.

"Once, about four and a half years ago. Why?"

"You seem to know what you're doing."

Fang shrugged. He had never been big on conversation, except when that conversation involved Max.

"Why were you here?"

"I was staying with Max and the others in Virginia. We went to a school there. They took us on a field trip here."

"Isn't that kinda far?"

"Not really."

"You guys did a lot together, didn't you?"

"Who?"

"You and Max."

"Yeah. We've known each other since we were really little. Me, her, and Iggy."

"Why aren't you so close to Iggy?"

"We have our moments. But Max and I just clicked. Like, we were instantly best friends."

"Was Iggy born…you know, blind?" Artemis asked, though he seemed almost hesitant.

Fang shook his head. "No. That happened when we were maybe five. They just took him away one day, and Max and I didn't see him for hours and hours after. We started thinking his crate might stay empty, when they brought him back."

"What happened?"

"Apparently they were trying to enhance his night vision. Idiots didn't know what they were doing."

"How did you guys get out? Of the School, I mean."

"One of the whitecoats busted us out."

"What happened to him?"

"He's Jeb."

"Oh. You know, Izzy says she remembers him from when she was young."

"Not surprising. I don't know much about the guy."

"So why trust him?"

"I don't. Not really. But Max trusts him, no matter how often she says she doesn't. And I trust Max."

"You guys are really good together, ya know?"

"What?"

"You and Max," Artemis clarified. "I mean, you trust each other with everything and don't hide anything. You guys care about each other."

Fang thought of how Max had been acting the past few months. Paranoid in the extreme, like there were ghosts surrounding her, haunting her. Like the whole world was out to get her.

He knew she was hiding something, something she felt she couldn't tell him.

There was something she didn't trust him with.

Fang had tried not to think about what it might be, but it was difficult to do that when he felt like whatever it was was putting distance between the two of them. Fang didn't like it, but if Max didn't want to tell him, she wouldn't. He knew that. She never did anything she didn't want to do.

Fang nodded. "Yeah. We do."

Artemis said some other things on their way to the safe house, but nothing that captured Fang's attention as much as the comment about him and Max. She was putting up a good act, and apparently, so was he. Everyone thought things were fine and dandy between them. No one could see the walls Max was building; no one had any idea that she was harboring a secret.

Thanks to Jeb's training, not even Lux and Angel could know something was amiss.

Jeb had told him that the mind can be like a filing cabinet. Everything has its place, and even if it can't be found, it's always there. Keeping others out was simple: get a lock. This lock had no ordinary key. Only Fang could access his thoughts, because he was his own key. Lux couldn't see anything he didn't want her to, and neither could Angel.

That was just the way he liked it.

Fang and Artemis entered through the backyard and let themselves into the house. Everyone else was already there, seated around the kitchen table.

"Hello, boys," Dr. M greeted. "Take a seat. We need to get down to business."

"Have you talked to Morgan?"

"Yes, just a couple hours ago. Things are going smoothly on her end so far."

"Alright." Fang sat down across from Dr. M, at one end of the table. It felt strange to him to be sitting there, as it was usually Max's seat. But Max wasn't here; he was in charge.

"Here's the plan, guys," Fang started. He had been formulating this plan during their entire trip to D.C. "We know that someone here in D.C. is an enemy."

"Wait, Fang. I have some new information that might be useful," Dr. Martinez interrupted.

"Alright. Shoot."

Dr. Martinez placed a folder on the table, one identical to the folder of pictures.

"I have a where for you."

{[(/*\)]}

"Okay, Pep, tell me the plan."

Pepin rolled his eyes. Fang had already asked everyone in the flock the exact same question.

The five of them were briskly walking down the crowded street, stopping every so often to stare at the buildings like gawking tourists.

"You, Lux, and Izzy go in and snoop around. If you're caught, you just say you got lost. Artemis and I snoop around outside and watch your backs. If you have trouble headed your way, we make a distraction."

"And…?"

"We get out within the hour."

"Correct. Alright, guys, you ready?"

"I was born ready," Izzy replied.

"So was I," agreed Lux.

"Let's just do this already," Artemis said.

"Alright, let's go."

* * *

><p>REVIEW. That's not my request. That's HARRY FREAKING POTTER'S request. He wants to REVIEW my story and go see him die in his final movie that is being released today. If you're going to go see HP7-2, know that I'm uber jealous. I have to wait until tomorrow.):<p>

HARRY FREAKING POTTER (who is, by the way, TOTALLY AWESOME) wants you to REVIEW my story! Obey or he shall strike you down with Red Vines. REVIEW.


	8. Birdcage

This week has gone by incredibly fast. This story is going by incredibly fast, too. Which is why I'm behind on the writing. Only just started chapter ten. Yikes. I don't plan to fall behind on updates, though, so never fear!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter. You make me smile.(:

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Eight: Birdcage**

The flock and I were suiting up when Paige strutted into the room. Yes, we were suiting up. The trigger happy military dudes, or whoever was in charge, insisted that we take some protective gear, like heavy bullet-proof vests, since we refused the guns.

Behind Paige were three soldiers. They're faces contorted in confusion when they saw the six of us there, half of us minors. One of them whispered to another, "These are the _spies_? They're just kids!"

A harsh look from Paige shut him up. Then she turned to me, eyes flashing. "These are your escorts, Maximum. They will protect you and your flock and ensure that you make it to the target."

"Are you sure _we_ won't have to protect _them_?"

"They are all highly trained. They will be doing the protecting. You just do your job."

I shrugged. "Alright. Come on, big guys. We're out of here."

Two of the soldiers looked to one, presumably the one in charge, a silent question of my authority. He nodded his permission to listen to me.

I wasn't liking this. Not one bit.

{[(/*\)]}

Jeb saw us off onto the battlefield. It was hard for me to believe that just on the other side of this huge metal door was an endless volley of bullets that could shred flesh, human and avian.

Jeb placed his hand on my shoulder in a weird, almost fatherly way. "Good luck, Max."

I nodded and put on my headset. Paige insisted that we keep in contact, just in case things went awry, which was probably what they were going to do. Whenever Jeb saw me off for something, it seemed to go bad. I'm not saying he's a bad guy—heaven forbid—just that he's a bit of a bad luck charm.

"I'll see you later, Jeb," I told him, following our escorts to the exit, the pathway out of this haven.

"I'll hold you to that."

Once we were outside, I wasn't so sure about seeing Jeb later. It was hell out there. My flock followed me out, though I was starting to wish they didn't have to see or hear this mess. Our escorts sort of surrounded us, one to each side and one in the back. I was at the front, presumably because they figured I could hold my own.

Which I could. I didn't need any special training to kick ass.

"Point us in the right direction, big guy," I said to the soldier closest to me.

He nodded and jerked his head to the right. "This way."

No ma'ams or sirs. That was definitely a point to them. Maybe they weren't so bad after all.

Iggy and Dylan moved closer to flank me as we got further away from the base. One of the soldiers moved in front of me. I told Dylan to move to the back.

Things were going fine. Er, as fine as they can go on a foreign battlefield. And then someone shot at us. And then more bullets followed after that.

The soldier in front of me lifted his gun and started shooting back.

No, I wasn't scared. Nothing scares me. I'm Maximum Ride, remember?

Ha.

I heard one bullet slicing through the air, coming right at me, and stopped walking. I held out my arm to stop Iggy, too. The bullet passed half a foot in front of us. Thank God for mutant hearing.

The soldier before me started walking faster, leading us over bodies of dead and dying. I tried not to step on them after I swear I heard one of them groaning.

"We should've flown this!" Iggy shouted to me, struggling to be heard over the bullets flying through the air.

I agreed. I definitely agreed.

I chanced a quick glance behind me to make sure the others were okay. Nudge stumbled over a leg, gasping in horror when its owner coughed. Gazzy kept his eyes locked straight ahead on Iggy's back. Angel's face was blank; she didn't even seem to register her surroundings. The soldiers on either side of them were shooting out into the mess of enemy soldiers. Dylan, bringing up the rear, caught a bullet between his fingers, stopping it from hitting his shoulder.

Can you say, wow?

I leapt over a pair of bodies, though they both seemed thoroughly dead. Iggy wasn't so fortunate; he tripped. The guy's blind. What was I supposed to do? Stop and help him. And that's what I did.

I grabbed his hand. "Come on, Iggs. We got this."

He nodded, getting to his feet.

The soldier leading us turned around when he realized we had stopped. "What are you doing? We have to keep moving!"

"I don't leave a man behind," I retorted, though I wasn't sure he heard me.

"Hurry, we're almost there!" The soldier pointed to a thicket of trees up ahead. In the space between us and the thicket, there was a skirmish going on. Soldiers in uniforms similar to the ones our escorts were wearing were shooting at soldiers in completely different uniforms. "The building's just in those trees!"

Oh, yeah, the trouble was _getting_ to those trees.

I let go of Iggy and started moving again. "Come on, guys. We can do this."

I was sure of it, too, the moment I said it. We could do this, no big.

And then our lead escort, the one right in front of me, got shot.

Crap.

I watched as he tipped over, clutching his side. Blood was spouting out, staining his uniform red. The other two soldiers stopped shooting their weapons when they saw their superior wounded.

Then another assumed command. "We have to keep moving," he insisted.

And so we kept moving, Iggy and I in the front. Just through the trees, the soldiers had said. Our target was just through the trees.

The muscles in my wings started flexing. I would've unsheathed them by now, if not for the stupid, hole-free, bulletproof vest I had on. Oh, and the threat of my feathers being shredded.

The bullets kept speeding by us, and I was starting to hope that these bad guys were like the ones in action movies: horrible aim when it comes to guns.

Then Nudge shrieked.

I spun around just in time to see another one of our escorts fall.

I glanced to our last escort, and I swear that fear was shining in the soldier's eyes. "Keep moving," he said quietly. "We can make it."

It was a lie I knew he didn't believe, one he didn't expect me to believe either.

But still, we kept going.

I was the first to break into the skirmish. We'd been lucky enough to not have to fight through most of the battlefield, but I knew this would be different. I didn't have a weapon like the cowards before me; I just had me.

One of the enemy soldiers raised his gun, as though he was gonna hit me with it. I grabbed the gun, forced his hands down, and kneed his chest. He stumbled backward, the wind knocked out of him.

My flock knew to fight, too. They continued to follow me, beating up soldiers in their way. I even saw Angel pick up a gun from one of the fallen and use it as a club. At least her finger wasn't on the trigger.

I lost sight of our escort for a fleeting moment, before he reappeared, his face bloodied. His face had just been bashed in by the butt of a gun apparently. His attacker then decided to implement the weapon's other end.

It was just the six of us now.

I tugged on Nudge's arm, willing her to move quicker. We had to get out of here, into the building—

Dylan fell against me, almost making me fall before I regained my balance and caught him. It was his leg; it'd been shot.

This was not good.

"Iggy!" I yelled. "Help me!"

Iggy flipped a guy over and rushed to my side.

"You've gotta help me carry Dylan the rest of the way."

Dylan looked at me like I was crazy. "What? No! I'll only slow you guys down! You have to keep going."

"You'll die if we leave you here, you retard!"

"Nice to know you care," he smirked.

"Shut up."

"Seriously, though. You have to go on. I'll try to make it back on my own. If worst comes to worst, you can just pick me up on your way back. I'll hang out in the trees until it's clear."

I didn't point out that that wasn't the worst. Worst case scenario: none of us made it back.

Dylan pushed himself away from me using his good leg. "Come on, Max."

I sighed in frustration. "We're getting you into the forest at least."

We sprinted the last of the way, finally in the refuge of the trees. It wasn't much of an improvement: I could still distinctly make out the wails and cries of the injured, the sound of bullets whirring through the air. Iggy and I set Dylan down, and he leaned against a trunk.

"You should probably tell Paige that we made it out of the battlefield," Iggy suggested, leaning against a tree to catch his breath.

I nodded and turned on my headset.

"Maximum."

"We're through. We're in the trees now."

"Good. You escorts—"

"Our 'escorts' won't be doing anything. I just watched the last one get his head blown off."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Morgan. They're all dead."

Silence.

"And Dylan's down, too. He got shot in the leg. Said he's gonna try to make it back."

"We will be watching for him then."

"You'd better be. Now tell me, what exactly are we supposed to do?"

"Just creep farther into the forest. You will find the building eventually. We have determined that you can get in through the roof. Once it is safe to do so, shed your vests and fly up. Explore the inside. Tell us what you find. Try to make it out and report back to Headquarters before nightfall."

"Will do," I replied, shutting off my headset.

Dylan looked at me, and I looked at him. Though I had turned down a romantic relationship with him countless times, I was still fond of the guy.

"Get out of here, Max."

I gestured to my flock to proceed me, farther into the trees. Iggy took the lead while I watched our backs.

"Max, I see something," Angel said quietly.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd heard her speak. All through Paige's "training," all through the briefing, all through the battlefield, Angel had been silent as a mouse. It wasn't that shocked, what-the-fudgsicles-have-I-gotten-into silence either. It was that I-know-not-to-speak-up sort of silence, that I-know-more-than-I-should quiet.

Of course, I ignored that for the moment. I was grateful she had said something, because Iggy wouldn't be seeing anything anytime soon, Nudge was in a sort of stupor, and Gazzy seemed to be looking for something explosive, while I was making sure we didn't get killed.

"Where, sweetie?" I asked her.

She stopped walking and pointed ahead, just to her left. She was right, too: I could see the gray walls of a building hiding in the trees. It wasn't just any building either; this was t_he_ building, the one I'd seen in dozens of photographs. To one side of it was a fairly big patch of dirt, where the most recent photos had been taken of the Erasers, bird-girl, and Omega beating up aforementioned bird-girl.

This was the place.

"Go right," I ordered. Iggy obeyed and led us to the right, further into the trees.

Twenty feet in, where I could still see the building, I told the flock to stop, and I started stripping off my vest. They followed my lead, as always, and I explained to them what we were gonna do.

"Shouldn't we leave someone out here to stand guard or something?" Nudge asked.

It wasn't a bad idea, but the last thing I wanted was to turn this into a Hollywood horror movie.

"No, no splitting up. We need to stick together. We've already lost our escorts, and Dylan. Let's not lose anyone else," I decided.

Bulletproof vests aside, we started scaling the tree, going as high as we could, to the very narrowest branches.

"Up and away, guys," I whispered, mostly to myself. Still, everyone pushed off the tree, heading toward the roof of the building. On said roof, there were several hatches and windows. There was a sheet of glass covering what looked to be a courtyard. I nearly shuddered when I noticed the glass was stained crimson.

What was I getting us into?

We landed, our wings _swoosh_ing, our feet touching down soundlessly. I gestured for them to start looking for an unlocked hatch or an open window. We dispersed, but I made sure that everyone was still in my field of vision. I almost panicked when my quick headcount yielded five bird kids, before I remembered that Dylan had stayed behind.

I could work with five. Fang did it all the time. Why not me?

"Max," Gazzy hissed. "Look here."

I loped over to the Gasman's position. He was crouching before a window, fifteen feet from the glassed-in courtyard.

"It's open," he told me, demonstrating.

"Nice work, Gaz," I praised, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded and opened the window wide enough for a bird kid to fall through, while I rounded up the others.

"So…who's going down the creepy hatch of doom first?" Iggy remarked. I socked him.

"Picking up anything, Angel?"

She stared down into the building for a moment. In the room below us, the lights were off. We had no way of knowing if it was empty or housing an ambush.

Angel finally shook her head.

"I'll go first. Iggs, you make sure they all get through before you come down."

"Got it."

And so, I stepped forward and lowered myself into the building. My stomach flipped during the half-second I spent falling into darkness, and then I hit the floor. I paused, listening carefully for signs of anyone approaching, sounds that said we were not alone.

"Clear," I whispered.

Nudge came down next, her wings wrapped around her torso. I placed my hand on her shoulder to comfort her. We were gonna make it.

Gazzy followed, and then his sister. Four down, one up. Iggy swung down, holding on to the window frame with one hand and pulling down the glass with the other. He let go before he chopped off any of his fingers.

"So what now?" he asked, his ninja moment over.

"We snoop. Gotta figure out how well—or how wrong—these experiments are going."

"Let's do this." Iggy reached out his fist, starting the stack-up that we hadn't done in years. I put my closed hand on top of his, grinning, and the rest of the flock followed.

We crept out of the room into a hallway. One of the lights was flickering. Other than that, everything was orderly and a crisp, sterile white. Talk about unwanted nostalgia.

"So if you were a bad guy, where would you keep your inhumane experiments?" I mumbled.

"I say we head for the courtyard," Gazzy suggested. "They probably use it for something involving the experiments."

I nodded. "Alright. Courtyard it is."

I led us in the direction of the bloodstained glass from the roof, carefully dodging any sounds of life. The hall came to a dead end, but there was a door.

"Open the door: yea or nay?"

"Yea," was the collective response, so I opened the door.

It was stuffed with steam. I could feel the heat coming in contact with my skin, prompting my sweat glands to work overtime. I swatted some of the steam away from my face, and I was able to make out pipes. Endless twists and knots of pipes.

A boiler room.

"You guys wanna go through?"

"I wanna get out of here. If this is gonna get us out faster, let's go for it," Nudge said.

"Okay, then. Let's go." I ushered in my flock, closing the door behind us.

_I'm not liking this_, I thought to myself. I couldn't see two feet in front of me, I felt like I was a snowman on the sun, and I had no freaking idea where I was going.

"Angel, are you picking up anything?" I called, struggling to be heard over the sound of hot air rushing out of an open valve. There was no reply. "Angel?"

I looked around me. I could see Nudge, Iggy, Gazzy…

But no Angel.

"Angel!" I yelled. The others started looking for her. Iggy was waving his arms around like he was hoping he'd smack the kid, while Nudge and Gazzy were turning in circles.

"Angel…"

"I can't find her," Gazzy said, worry creeping into his tone.

"Me neither," Nudge echoed.

"Yeah, I don't know where she went," Iggy confirmed.

Angel was gone.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Okay, Nudge, Gazzy, grab my hands. Iggy, you take Nudge's other hand. We're not losing anyone else, not today."

We continued forging our way through the boiler room. And then I heard Iggy say, "Uhh, Max? Did you take my other hand?"

I glanced down, making sure that I was only holding on to Gazzy and Nudge. Iggy was supposed to be on the outside. "No, why?"

Iggy didn't say anything.

"Max, his hand is gone," Nudge relayed, her voice raising an octave. "His freaking hand is gone, Max!"

I cursed quietly. This was not good, not at all. "Find him! He's blind, for God's sake, it's not like he could get far!"

Gazzy's hand tugged away from mine, presumably so that he could look for his friend. I squeezed, trying to make it clear to him that he better not disappear, too.

But it wasn't flesh on my palm. It was fur.

I let go instantaneously, pulling Nudge farther into the steam. "Run!"

"Max, what's happening?" she shrieked.

It was just the two of us left. I'd lost two thirds of my flock in one stinking day.

"Maaax!"

At last, I saw a door! The way out! Nudge and I burst through into a hallway. I've never been so grateful to see clearly. I kicked the door shut, checked to make sure Nudge was alright and alive, and took off. I found a stairwell, and Nudge and I started down. When I heard the door pop open half a flight above us, we started leaping, taking the stairs four at a time, one for each missing member of my flock.

"Max, what about the others? Iggy and Gazzy and Angel?"

I bit my lip. "We'll come back for them, but if we get caught now, we're all screwed."

That made Nudge pick up the pace. We were practically flying down the stairs, doing our damnedest to outrun the growls and the snarls coming after us.

Finally, there were no more stairs. I yanked the steel door open, and Nudge and I darted into the hallway. At least, I tried to dart out. Nudge was stuck.

I looked back, trying to figure out how to free her. Let me tell you, it's next to impossible to free someone when they're being held by two Erasers, and one of them has got hold of a fragile wing.

Nudge looked terrified. She tried to let go of my hand, but I gripped her tighter. "Max, just go! Get help!" she shouted. She was scared, I knew, but she was sure she would be okay. She was sure of _me_.

So I nodded and let go, zipping down the hallway. I don't know why I was still going to the courtyard. Maybe I was hoping that I would find a way through the bloodied glass, a way out—

I saw it, straight ahead, to the left. The door to the courtyard. I could almost feel the hot breath of the Erasers behind me, chasing me. I was all alone, like in my dream, but I was almost free, almost—

I jumped through the doorway, into the courtyard, and launched myself up. I was gonna make it. I was gonna get out of there and get help for my flock. We were going to be alright, just like always.

I would have made it, I'm sure, if my ankle hadn't been snagged by something. I looked down. It was no Eraser. This creature, holding on to me, had a reptilian thing going on. Its eyes were yellow, its skin scaly. And its teeth were sharp, sharp, sharp…

And its clawed, green hand was wrapped around my ankle.

The creature pulled down violently, and I fell to the ground.

And then, in the most cliché way possible, everything went dark.

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><p>You know you want to hit the review button. You just can't resist. Why can't you resist? BECAUSE THE LAST HARRY POTTER MOVIE WAS FREAKING EPIC, AND I SAW IT LAST SATURDAY, AND THAT MADE A HAPPY WRITER OUT OF ME. That's why you can't resist.(:<p>

REVIEW.


	9. Cut it Close

Haha, I don't get back to Max and her flock until Chapter Ten, which means you must wait another week to see what's happened with them. Ahaha...

THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed. You just won a bazillion awesome points.

I must love you guys. I'm staying up late Thursday night (because I just realized that, holy crap, it's Thursday) to edit this chapter for you and pretty it up. I haven't had a good night's sleep in a while, and this is cutting into my sleep time. Enjoy!

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><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Nine: Cut it Close**

Fang had always been good at fading into the background. For a while, he'd even been able to become invisible if he stayed still long enough. He hadn't exercised that power in years, but he didn't need invisibility to dodge the eyes of the plethora of security guards. Their gazes just slipped right over him. He supposed he just looked like any ordinary teenager: hair in his eyes, stubble covering his chin, shoulders slouched. He certainly wasn't the only teenager there; he could pick out a half a dozen other guys his age, and every single one of them had a louder appearance than he.

_So far, so good._

Lux was across the room, standing on her tiptoes to get a better look at something, though she was already taller than any other eleven-year-old Fang had come across. Izumi was staring at a painting, chewing a wad of bubblegum, and Fang suspected that most of the guards would be too distracted by her long legs to worry about what she was doing.

Just like she was supposed to, Izzy cracked an especially loud bubble in the quiet room, making everyone in a three-person radius jump. One of the guards finally looked away from her shorts and stepped up to her, clearing his throat.

Izzy turned on her big, innocent eyes and flashed the guard a smile. Fang glanced around quickly, watching Lux slip out of sight, before smoothly stepping over a velvet rope that supported an "Employees Only" sign.

_In._

Fang wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for. Dr. M hadn't been very specific. She's given them a where, but no who. That was what they needed to learn: who. Fang decided to follow his instinct, something he knew Max always did. If you trust your instinct enough and follow it, you look like you always have a plan. A plan was always a good thing to have, Fang realized, especially when in the sort of leadership position he and Max were in.

So Fang took a few random turns, going in the direction he thought would yield the best results. _Any_ sort of results, really. Fang couldn't afford to be picky.

Fang kept his eyes peeled for anyone he probably shouldn't run in to, listening closely for footsteps. His own footfalls were practically silent, another quality which allowed him to easily slip into the background.

He passed closed doors on both sides, and every single one seemed to have something happening behind it. Muffled words here, a chuckle there, but Fang didn't once hear any of the keywords. He was listening for "war," "experiments," "Asia," "illegal," stuff like that. While not every conversation he heard seemed innocent, none of them seemed menacing. Fang suddenly felt the impossibility of his assignment. Go here. Find someone involved in the war. Report back. At least with Jeb in charge, there had been specificity, no matter how late it came. At the moment, Fang felt blind. He hardly knew what he was doing, and he definitely didn't know what Max was doing.

_Max…_

Fang paused in his stride for a fleeting moment. He couldn't help but be worried about Max. He wasn't stupid enough to think that she could hardly take care of herself. He'd personally witnessed her kick ass on multiple occasions. Max was a fighter. Fang knew that better than most, and he would never forget it.

But that didn't keep him from concern. Any number of things could go wrong on either of their missions, and the missions would undoubtedly have lasting complications. He and Max wouldn't be the same when they saw each other again.

It amazed Fang how entirely consumed he could become with Max. When she crossed his mind, she took her sweet time doing so. Every thought found a way to connect with Max, forming intricate tendrils throughout Fang's mind, an endless web of images and memories, possibilities and fantasies. Every cell in his systems screamed for Max, her scent, her touch, her voice, her laugh.

Max's laughter was ringing through Fang's mind when he bumped into the guard he hadn't heard coming.

"Are you lost?" the security guard asked suspiciously.

"Um…"

"This is a restricted area."

"I didn't know."

"You sure?"

Fang nodded, wishing he get out of there, but running would only arouse more suspicion. Fang didn't need that.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna have to take you to the boss. Can't have you wandering these hallways without permission."

Fang smoothly slid away from the guard's touch. The man was burly. His face was soft, his eyes not used to scolding kids. Fang could only guess that he was new to the job.

When Fang inched away from the guard's touch again, the man finally just rolled his eyes. "Fine, but don't you try to run off or anything, boy."

Fang walked beside the guard, not exactly leading and not exactly following. He carefully unlocked one drawer of his mind, opening just enough for Lux to get his message:

_Run._

Lux sent him a sort of mental push in response, a defiant gesture. _No_, she was saying. Lux wouldn't run.

_Damn it_, Fang thought, sealing his mind once more.

Fang knew there was only one thing he could do to get out of this and not bust this guy's butt into the next week. Fang had to disappear.

Yeah, so Fang couldn't access his invisibility powers. Yeah, the chances of the floor swallowing him were about as existent as dinosaurs.

Fang slowed his step little by little, just enough so that the guard didn't notice.

The guard was obviously new to the job. He took Fang through a room full of tourists. "Now right this way—"

But Fang was gone. He peeled away from the security guard with expertise that most FBI agents don't pick up until they're middle-aged. If the guard was new, he would choose to not relay the details of his encounter with Fang to anyone, for fear of losing his job for letting Fang get away. Fang sank back into the little crowd, making for the exit.

_Lux, tell the others to meet at Dr. M's in ten minutes._ Fang didn't get a response this time, which led him to assume that Lux would do as he'd asked.

Fang didn't run. There's no point in running when there's no one chasing. Fang walked right out as though he'd gone through two rooms, found himself bored out of his mind, and decided to leave. His only disappointment was that he hadn't learned a single thing. He could only hope the others hadn't come out empty-handed.

Fang got lucky, something that didn't happen often. At first it didn't appear that he would be lucky. Ten minutes passed and four of the five members of Fang's flock were at Dr. M's. Fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes, and there was still no sign of Lux.

"We should go look for her. I don't wanna be the only girl in the flock," Izzy said.

"Yeah, we should go find her. She might've gotten lost," Artemis chimed.

Fang almost laughed at the thought. Lux? Lost? The two words did not work together.

"They might have caught her," Pepin suggested.

"She would have made sure we knew then…"

But where could she be? They didn't know until Lux gracefully dropped from the sky another ten minutes later.

"Sorry I'm late, guys, but I just couldn't leave, not in the middle of something so juicy."

Fang perked up. "Did you find something out then? What did you hear?"

"I did more than hear, but I'll get to that later."

"Sit your butt down and explain, squirt," Izumi ordered.

Lux obeyed, though she made sure to look like she was doing so of her own accord. "Okay, so I managed to find this guy's office"—she pulled an ID card out of her pocket and examined the name—"Nino something. I don't know how to pronounce the last name. Anyway, this guy was on the phone, and he was talking about the war and all, and he was like, 'We must deploy more troops. The experiments aren't enough. We need results.' So I crouched down and eavesdropped. I tried to get into his head, but it was blocked, like yours, Fang, and Max's, and Jeb's."

Fang hadn't told any of his flock that he had mental blocks. They looked at him for a moment, suspicion clear in their eyes, before turning their attention back to Lux.

"So I just stayed there and listened. He kept mentioning 'experiments' and 'results,' so I'm pretty sure he's our guy."

"The question is, by 'experiments,' did he mean Nudge and Max and them, or the ones being made right now?" Artemis asked.

"I think he meant Max, 'cause he was like, 'they're not enough' and 'they have an ulterior motive.' Then he just started talking about boring stuff, like numbers and money. Then he went back to results. One thing was for certain, though: he wanted to keep the war going."

"Where'd you get the ID card, Lux?" Fang asked, praying she hadn't entered the man's office to obtain it.

"He dropped it. I think it's supposed to give him access to certain parts of the building."

"May I see it?"

Lux handed Fang the ID card. It was a basic card: white with a name and logo on it. The man's picture showed a somewhat stocky man with a day's old beard and light red hair, a color similar to Iggy's locks. In big letters was the man's name, and Fang cursed himself for not realizing it before, when Lux had dropped the first name. It wasn't a very common name at all.

"Lux, you're positive this belonged to the man who you heard on the phone?"

"Absolutely positive. He was still on the phone when he walked out of the office and dropped the card."

Fang ran a hand through his hair, tugging at all the knots his fingers came across.

"This cannot be good."

"Why? Do you know him?" Izzy pressed.

Fang tossed the ID card down for everyone to see. The name read Nino Pierpont.

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><p>Ten points to Ravenclaw if you can tell me who Nino Pierpont is. And if you're not a Ravenclaw, ten points to the House of your choice.<p>

...Of course, to get the points (and win the House Cup!) you'd have to REVIEW!


	10. The Distance

**xXjaziXx**: I actually _did_ read the chapter you sent me. I forgot to reply in the previous chapter (I've been very busy the past few weeks), and you didn't give me an email/account to reply to. I hope you post the story on this site.(:

So. This is my last update from the California State Summer School for the Arts. I'm going home in a few hours, and I'm very sad to go. I've had a freaking incredible experience these past four weeks. Lemme just say that if any of you reading this are serious and passionate about the arts (visual, film, animation, theater, music, dance, writing), check it out. Google is very handy for such things.(: It's been amazing, and it has changed me. Admittedly, I have learned more about myself than I have about writing, but I'm not the same person I was four weeks ago. Now...I'M A WRITER.

Okay, my soulful moment is over. Enjoy the chapter.(:

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><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Ten: The Distance**

I smiled. Fang stood in front of me, his arms outstretched. I took a step forward, ready to launch myself into his arms. He was smiling, too. Even though we had a good seven feet between us, I could almost feel his warmth radiating towards me like a cup of cocoa in a snowstorm. God, it was amazing.

His lips moved to form a name, never breaking from that smile, _my_ smile. I'd never ever seen him look at anyone else like that, not at the stupid Virginian redhead, not at Izzy when they'd briefly had a thing for each other. Only me. That look, that expression, that _love_ was reserved for me.

He began walking toward me, his arms still reaching, his grin stretching. He was coming for me, to comfort me.

Wait, why was he gonna comfort me? Had something happened? Did I need comforting? What was going on?

I let my hand reach out to close the distance between us, to pull Fang closer to me faster. He was moving much too slow. Why was he moving so freaking slow?

I reached, but my flesh couldn't find him. I was looking at him; he was right there, in front of me. My hand was touching him! So why didn't I feel it?

Fang kept walking, passing right through me.

Don't say it. Let me:

What the hell.

I spun around, very curious to know why my boyfriend had just glided right through me, like I was invisible, like I didn't exist, like I was a ghost—

Holy crap, was I a ghost? Had I died somewhere? No, no, I couldn't die, I'd promised Fang that I'd return in one piece. I couldn't be dead.

I stared at Fang's back, still striding away from me, further and further away. He looked just the same as when he'd left: black clothes, dark hair dipping past his collar. He was handsome even from this angle.

But Fang became the ugliest person in the world to me when I saw who he was walking to: Gwen, the annoying intern.

Oh, hell no.

Fang wrapped his still-outstretched arms around her, flashing her that smile, _my_ smile, and kissed her cheek. She giggled.

I realized then that he hadn't been mouthing "Max;" he'd been mouthing "Gwen."

I was just about ready to march over to the lovebirds, rip them apart, and slap that redheaded bitch across the face. You don't steal my boyfriend without going through me, and once you're through with me, you will not want to touch anything of mine ever again.

But I didn't; I couldn't. Fang looked over at me in that instant. Not through me, but a_t_ me. He saw me, knew I was there.

So was why he still with what's-her-face?

Gwen sneered at me, and she was suddenly in front of me, just inches away, shoving at my shoulder. She did _not_ just go there. In response, I shoved back at her, and she flew across the room. I had won.

"Max," Fang said, verbally acknowledging my presence at last. "Max."

I had an assortment of snarky, mean things to say to him right then, but I couldn't get any of them out. No, "Bug off, jerk" or "I should've known" or "Don't even bother." I couldn't even find it in me to flip him the bird and walk away with my pride still intact. My tongue was tangled up in my teeth.

"Max," he repeated, his voice seeming to divide into four parts. "Max."

I grabbed my head.

"Max!"

"What the hell is going on here?" I exclaimed.

"MAX! MAX! MAX! MAX!"

"Shut up! Go away! Stop it! STOP IT!"

My name was formed by a whisper, rising a few octaves. Fang grew shorter before my eyes, his hair became blond and curly, and he was suddenly a little girl.

Angel.

"Max," she said. "It's time for you to wake up now."

The floor dropped out from under me.

{[(/*\)]}

I jolted awake, my hands reaching out to grab something, anything to keep me from falling. The ground was solid and stable under me. My body arched, and my eyes fluttered open.

My first thought: Thank God I was dreaming.

My next thought: Damn it, not again.

I was in a prison cell. For a girl who had spent the first ten years of her life in a cage, this was not a welcome sight to wake up to, especially after the dream I had just had.

I wasn't alone. Upon sweeping my eyes over the cell, I found that my flock, minus Dylan, was with me. Nudge was curled up against a wall, her forehead touching her knees. Gazzy was splayed out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Iggy was sitting in the corner, his head in his hands. Angel was beside me, crisscross-applesauce.

"Finally awake?" Iggy whispered.

I nodded. "Yeah. Is everyone alright?"

Iggy shook his head. "I'm sorry, Max. I tried to stop them, but…"

"But what?" The worry was seeping into my tone. I was the mother hen once again.

Nudge slowly uncurled enough for me to see the gash in her side, starting up at her armpit and traveling down to her waist. Her shirt was in tatters and the edges were soaked in blood. The wound was fleshy and pink, still bleeding in some places, while other spots were yellowing with pus.

I reached to help Nudge, somehow, anyhow, but she shook her head, winced, and folded her body over the injury once again.

"What happened?"

"We were trying to get away from them before they could put us in here. We fought against them, Max. That was before we realized that they'd knocked you out and that there was no way we would be able to lug you out of here unconscious. We all got a bit bloodied up, but Nudge is the worst."

"Isn't there anything you can do for her?" Iggy still had the best first aid skills out of all of us.

"I already tried. I did what I could. But I can't disinfect it or anything, and anything I might bind it with is dirty and would just make the infection worse."

"What did it?" I asked Gaz.

"I'm not sure. It was some sort of thing I'd never seen before. It was scaly and green and it had the craziest eyes."

"Yellow eyes?"

"Yeah."

"That's the thing that knocked me out."

"I must admit, I was wondering when they would move past the Erasers," Gazzy remarked.

"I was wondering when they would finally see reason and not make any more of these…things," Iggy muttered.

"So have they done anything besides mutilate Nudge? Have they dropped any hints about what they might have up their sleeves?"

"If you're wondering what they're gonna do to us, we have no idea in hell," Iggs replied.

An F-bomb dropped and exploded in my brain. Thank God Angel couldn't read me right then. The last thing I needed was my ten-year-old cursing up a storm.

"What did they leave us with?"

Iggy pinched his shirt. "I don't know what the hell this is, but it doesn't feel like anything I own."

I looked down at my own clothing. Loose, thin shirt, loose pants, no shoes. It would be fun running through the woods like this. Everyone else was dressed the same.

"So they took our gear, our headsets…"

I almost slapped myself right then and there. Our headsets! I could've called in for back up! This was clearly not my day.

"How is Morgan gonna know we're here?" Gazzy asked.

"She wanted us to be back at Headquarters before nightfall. When we don't show, she'll assume something went dreadfully, horribly wrong. At least, she better assume that."

"She probably will. I've got her pegged as the pessimistic type," Iggy said.

"And Dylan should make it back eventually. So he'll be able to help her find us."

"But Max"—Nudge paused, flinching at her own words. Her hand instinctively went down to her wound—"how are Dylan and Paige Morgan gonna save us when _we_ couldn't even successfully infiltrate the place?"

"Nudge, sweetie, if it's hurting you to talk, you probably shouldn't."

She grimaced. "I was afraid you would say that."

I nodded.

"She has a point though," Angel whispered. "How _are_ they gonna save us?"

I bit my lip. Fang couldn't tell me to stop.

Iggy, always the optimist, suggested, "They'll probably contact Fang and get him to come bust us out."

Angel and Nudge nodded, satisfied.

But Fang wasn't there to tell me to leave my damn lip alone. Fang wasn't there to comfort me when I needed to comfort my flock. Fang wasn't there to help me plan a way out. Fang wasn't there to save me and my flock.

Fang just wasn't there.

I realized then that I had become too dependent on my boyfriend. I had to stand alone this time, because he wouldn't be there to comfort me all the time.

Fang couldn't be there for me now.

God, what was I supposed to do without him?

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><p>I need to get on the writing. While I've written like thirty plus stories and poems and scripts in the past four weeks, I've only written like two chapters for this story. O: I'm only halfway through chapter eleven! AHH!<p>

Review. I'm not just asking you to be nice and flowery. I've recently come to realize just how valuable good critiquing is. In the words of one of my teachers..."Clarity questions?" (Anything you didn't understand?) "What worked?" (What was good?) "What didn't work?" (What was bad?) Answer the questions. Por favor? REVIEW! CRITIQUE!


	11. Remember When

So, last chapter I got a review from **Death** that said, "-lurks in corner-" and nothing else. I laughed about this for a while, because (one) it's totally cool and (two) it's totally true. Thanks for reviewing, **Death**.(:

I've continued in the writing for this story! Now that I'm no longer swamped with writing assignments, I have the next two weeks of summer to work on this and other projects. Well, one week really, but whatever.

This is officially the second half of the story! Whoot! I'll shut up now and let you read. Enjoy!

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><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Eleven: Remember When…**

She had been curled up under an apartment building's fire escape, wearing the same thin cotton gown that Fang had grown up seeing. She was so small. Her matted red hair was stuck to her face, along with streaks of dirt. Her legs, chalky pale, were against her chest, like she could shield herself from the world. It evidently wasn't working. Fang could see the dried blood caked on her face.

Fang had been hoping to recruit older mutants to his flock, only older mutants. He had already found two, the younger one only two years younger than Fang. He wanted to find older mutants, but he couldn't leave the little girl.

He couldn't exactly see her wings, but he could see the abnormally large lump in the fabric of the gown. She had wings. Fang wasn't sure if she could use them, but he was fairly sure he could teach her. How hard could it be?

"What is it?" Izumi had asked him, peering over his shoulder into the dark alley. He'd met her a year ago.

"Why'd we stop?" was Artemis's question.

Fang pointed to the little girl. "Look."

"Dude, is she…like us?" Artemis whispered.

Fang nodded.

"We should help her," Izzy decided, stealing the words from Fang's lips.

Fang was the one who approached the little red-haired girl. After all, he was in charge. It was his decision who was a part of his flock.

He crouched down on the cement next to the girl. She slept peacefully, and Fang was distinctly reminded of another little girl he had known in another life. Angel's face flashed through his mind for a brief instant, all curls and smiles. He hadn't seen her in more than a year, and he began to wonder how she was doing, how everyone else was doing, how Max was doing…

Fang reached out a hand and gently shook the girl's shoulder. She wasn't on her feet in an instant, like Fang had half-expected. She was just a little girl, still untouched. She hadn't been tainted by the horrors of the life Fang led.

Not yet.

The girl was sleepy, groggy. Her eyes opened and closed a few times as she took in Fang.

And then, she smiled.

"Hi, sweetie," Fang said softly.

Izumi and Artemis exchanged a curious glance. They had never heard their leader speak to someone so caringly. He usually hid what he was feeling, and he was good at it.

"Hi." The girl yawned and stretched.

Fang offered her a hand. "We're here to help you."

"I know."

All three of them looked at this little girl quizzically.

"I can see what you're thinking," she told them, speaking as casually as if she was telling them that she'd eaten a jelly doughnut for dinner. "Like a picture."

She took Fang's hand. "I'm Lux."

"Fang."

"Yeah, I know."

A smile twitched across Fang's mouth. It would take some getting used to, living with a mind reader once more. He would have to watch his thoughts more closely, especially if they neared things little seven-year-old girls should not know.

"I'm nine, actually," Lux said.

Fang smirked and rose to his feet, bringing Lux with him. He turned to Izumi and Artemis.

"Welcome to the flock, Lux."

{[(/*\)]}

After Lux had told the flock about her almost-encounter with the bad guy, Dr. Martinez had shown up.

"We need to return to Arizona."

"Is something wrong?"

"I've been contacted by the Office. Morgan needs to speak with us."

"And we need to go all the way back to Arizona for _that_?" Artemis muttered.

Fang ignored Artemis and nodded. "Alright. We can leave whenever."

Dr. M nodded. "Good. Ella and I are flying back tomorrow afternoon. It would be good if you didn't arrive too much later than we do."

"Got it. How long do you guys need?" Fang asked his flock.

Izumi pursed her lips. Fang knew she would take the longest, and he also knew that she would overestimate the time I would take for her to be ready to go.

"Ten minutes."

"You have five."

{[(/*\)]}

Fang and his flock were ready to leave in four minutes, and they managed to get to Dr. M's house before she did. When Dr. M finally arrived with Ella, she said simply, "Alright, we'd better head over to the Office."

Fang and his flock had just been raiding the bountiful cabinets of the Martinez kitchen. They each stashed a few goodies in their pockets and mouths and prepared for takeoff.

The Office seemed a lot calmer to Fang. The employees smiled more and chatted with each other. Gwen gave him a hug which he half-heartedly returned. Fang noticed a lot of the workers wearing jeans instead of their usual slacks.

And then Fang remembered that Paige Morgan, the boss, was half a world away.

Dr. Martinez led Fang and his flock to the same conference room they'd been briefed in at the start of their mission. It felt incredibly empty without Max and her gang. Fang wondered for the millionth time how they were doing, and then he decided that now was not the ideal time to be worried about his girlfriend.

"Just take a seat. Morgan should be calling in in about two minutes," Dr. Martinez said, checking her watch.

Fang lowered himself at one end of the table, while his flock split evenly to flank him, as if they'd predetermined a seating chart. Dr. M sat next to Lux.

It actually took Paige one minute to call in, her image projected on one wall of the conference room, and she was more frazzled than Fang had ever seen her. Her short hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, her glasses were slipping off her nose, her makeup was smudged, and the first two buttons of her wrinkled shirt were undone.

"Hello, Morgan," Dr. M greeted.

Paige nodded to her in acknowledgment and turned to Fang.

"We have a problem."

That woke Fang up better than a bucket of ice water could have.

"What do you mean?"

"We lost contact with Max thirty-six hours ago. Dylan returned to us thirty hours ago, alone."

Fang gripped the edge of the table and shut his eyes. Morgan didn't know what she was talking about was all. Max had to be creeping around Headquarters, somewhere. Paige Morgan just hadn't looked in the right place yet.

"Dylan relayed the events of the battle to us."

Fang's eyes snapped open. "Battle?"

"Yes. We sent Max and her flock through the battlefield with three escorts to infiltrate the enemy base."

"You should've just had them fly!"

Morgan bit her lip, staring down Fang. "Dylan has told us that after the escorts were killed and he was shot—"

"WHAT?" Izumi nearly shrieked.

"—that Max and Iggy pulled him into the trees. He convinced them to continue and managed to get back to Headquarters after a few hours. Max communicated with me shortly after leaving behind Dylan, and I asked her to return before nightfall. She never came."

What had Max gotten herself into?

Fang gritted his teeth and rested his chin on his hands. He looked right at Paige when he said, fighting to keep his voice even, "What the hell were you thinking sending them into the middle of a freaking battle?"

"I assure you, things did not go as planned."

"It seems to me the problem is bigger than that."

"This would not have happened if Max had simply completed her training."

"What training?"

"We were going to train her to use firearms. She refused."

"You didn't do your research, did you? Max doesn't do guns."

"They could have saved her life."

"Oh well."

Paige pursed her lips. "Let us stop arguing over the cause. We must deal with the effect."

"Okay."

"We are flying you and your flock out here. Your flight leaves in two hours. We will brief you on the situation, and then we will send you to rescue your friends."

"Alright."

"Right now, we have scouts watching the base. One of them is Dylan, who insisted he is well enough to continue his mission. He will be assisting you in the rescue."

Fang wasn't big on the idea of working with Dylan, but if it would save Max, he wasn't about to argue, so he just nodded.

"What have you learned?"

Fang turned to Lux, who he had asked to share the information.

Lux grinned excitedly and stood up in her chair, her hair bouncing. "We got a name."

Paige cocked an interested eyebrow. "Oh?"

Lux pulled the ID card from her pocket, dangling it from a string she'd placed it on, letting the plastic glint in the light. "Nino Pierpont. He's funding the war from the inside. He was talking about 'results.'"

Paige nodded. "Thank you. I will see you in a few hours."

The projected image disappeared. Everyone turned to Fang.

He stood up. "You heard her. Our flight leaves in two hours."

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><p>I know there was someone who wanted Fang to go rescue Max...so here it is! It gets very interesting from here...hopefully interesting enough to provoke MORE than FIVE REVIEWS (!) from you guys. That's a pitiful number. It hardly deserves to be called a number...<p>

REVIEW. Reviews make your author happy. Please REVIEW!


	12. The Mirror

Amazingly, I don't have much to say... Wow. Read, enjoy, review.(:

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><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Twelve: The Mirror**

My face smashed against the cold metal again. My crooked teeth sliced into my gums, bringing the taste of blood to my tongue. I wanted to stay there, bruised, swollen flesh on cool steel, because it didn't hurt as much that way.

I'm sure they knew that, too.

I was jerked away in an instant, pushed backwards. My neck snapped violently, weighed down by my head. The sound of concrete on bone echoed through my skull.

I groaned. That was all the satisfaction I would give them.

I felt one of them prodding something into my side. "Will you answer the question now?"

Honestly, I couldn't even remember the damn question they were referring to. They'd already asked so many; how did they expect me to keep track of them all?

"Who sent you? Why?"

The name Paige Morgan danced across my tongue silently. I saw her face in my mind. I hadn't meant to think of her.

"Thank you," they said.

Huh?

"Why did she send you?"

I hadn't said a word. Where did they pull "she" from?

The next pictures in my mind were of people in white lab coats, dog crates stuffed with mutated children, Erasers…

I wasn't trying to think of that.

"What did she tell you?"

I saw snippets of the battle again, the hatch on the roof. The photos of the Erasers and Omega and bird girl. The building.

"Not much, apparently. Take her away. Let's see if the stories of her followers match up with hers."

What are you talking about? I wanted to scream at the man who owned this voice. I hadn't given him a story. How the hell could he see if the flock's stories matched up with mine? _There was no freaking story!_

I felt a slimy hand wrap around my arm. The muscles in my eyes worked to peel the swollen skin back, with success on only one side. It was that same thing that had knocked me out, the thing Gazzy had described. I tried to snarl in an animalistic way, but the sound slipped around in my throat like a clumsy ice skater. I ended up coughing instead.

The thing brought me back to the cell I'd been sharing with the flock. It threw me inside. I tripped over my feet and hit the back wall with a _thud_. My head made impact, and I stepped on one of my toes, hearing a _crunch_. Dear God, I hate breaking toes.

I collapsed into a pitiful little heap, my eye staying open just long enough to see the thing take Iggy out of the cell, arms swinging.

"Are you okay, Max?" I heard Gazzy ask.

I tried to move, to make some sort of acknowledgement that I'd heard him and that I'd be alright. I didn't want him to know that I couldn't feel my left hand, that my head felt like someone had left a vibrating cell phone inside to replace my brain. I hoped he wouldn't notice the blood I could feel dripping down the back of my neck, the way my toe was angled, the patches of skin that were multicolored.

Don't be afraid, Gaz, I wanted to say, but I couldn't speak.

All I could do was sleep.

{[(/*\)]}

I think I got about three solid hours of sleep before my mind decided it was wakey-wakey time. I did my very best to sit up, leaning my sore, broken body against the wall. I could feel the nerves slowly coming back to life in my hand. The skin around my eyes was still swollen, blood throbbing and throbbing, but I could open both eyes most of the way.

My flock was scattered around, just as battered and broken as I was. Iggy's face was purple, his hair was coated with blood. Nudge's face had shallow scratches all along in, none as serious as the infected wound in her side. Gazzy was cradling his hand, the knuckles bloodied, the fingers bent in unnatural ways. Angel's legs were tucked up against her stomach, her face buried in her knees, presumably hiding an injury she didn't want me to worry about.

They were all dead asleep.

I shut my eyes and listened for a moment. I could hear the guard grumbling to himself. He wouldn't be bothering himself with us.

I opened my eyes and saw something I hadn't heard: my buddy from the plane. He was on the other side of the bars, staring at me. He couldn't touch me. I closed my eyes again.

The sticky feeling of hot breath on my cheek made me open my eyes again. He was right there next to me. The door to the cell hadn't even opened, as far as I could tell.

I eyed the beast, trying to hide the fear my aching body was screaming.

He grinned, teeth glimmering in the light that filtered in from the tiny window above.

"Hi, Max."

My name, my name, how did he know my name! I looked into his eyes, and then I couldn't look away. Dark pools that seemed to never end. No light in his eyes, no white, just bottomless darkness.

He unsheathed a claw and used it to stroke my face. He showed me the claw; it was tipped crimson.

"The birdie's trapped in a cage. Poor birdie. No way out, not for all of you."

He cackled, a low sound that I knew was meant for my ears alone. It scratched on my eardrum, writhed in my brain. A shriek climbed up my throat before getting stuck.

The Eraser smiled at my discomfort and pushed his snout against my nose, something I swore he had done before. His breath touched every millimeter of my face, creeping on my skin.

"Good night, birdie…"

His breath flowed up my nostrils, down into my lungs, and into my bloodstream. And I was asleep.

I don't know, maybe the Eraser's breath was part hallucinogen. Whatever it was, I saw some really trippy stuff over the next hour. Balloons that were as flexible as bubbles, crowding the cell. I watched Angel dance in front of me, each of her limbs connected to a string, controlled by a hand I couldn't see. Pink gazelles leaping across the heads of each member of my flock.

For a moment, there was a giant flower chilling next to me, neon petals folding steadily. I thought for a moment that it was smiling…

Anyway, lots of trippy stuff. But the trippiest thing?

A mirror. At least, I thought it was a mirror.

I wasn't sure if I was awake or asleep. I was leaning against the back wall of the cell, staring out at freedom. My eyes would be open one moment, closed the next.

Open. Close. Open. Close. Open.

Holy schnapps. I understood for a fleeting moment why I always let Nudge use the mirror back home.

She was sitting just outside the cell, Indian style. Her dark blond hair was matted with mud and blood, pulled back into a sloppy bun/ponytail thing. Her face was dirty, like she'd never heard of a bath. I could just make out the familiar brown and white wings hanging loosely, carelessly, behind her.

I locked onto her eyes. _My _eyes.

I looked over her body for the bruises I felt every time I breathed, every time I thought about moving, the scratch that the Eraser left along my cheek. She didn't have any of them.

_Am I dead?_

She smirked. I wasn't smirking.

And then I saw the gun that was strapped across her body.

"How're you holding up?" she asked me.

I coughed. Maybe that answered her question. I coughed and coughed until there was no more lump in my throat, until I could speak clearly again.

"You're the girl from the photo," I croaked.

Her eyebrows wrinkled. "What photo?"

"H-how?"

She brushed off my question and the absence of an answer to her question. "You know," she said, "it's kinda funny. 'Max' isn't really such a rare name. It happens to be my name, too."

"It was my name first."

"You don't actually know that."

"You're the clone."

"What if I told you that you got it wrong? What if I said _I'm_ the original and _you're_ the clone?"

"Liar."

She chuckled. "You never know. It might just be another trick they played on you."

"Why are you here?"

"Avoiding the truth, are you? Oh well. I'm here because I want to get rid of you. They needed help. I came to their aid."

"You gonna kill me?"

She stroked the barrel of her gun. "Not yet, birdie."

"Omega?"

She grimaced. "What about that bastard?"

"Why's he here?"

"Because these guys were smart. They recruited the remains of Itex Germany. He wants you dead, too. We're just trying to figure out who should be the one to kill you: the one whose ass you kicked before, or the one who wears your face."

I coughed. I wasn't gonna help her answer that question.

"He hates that you humiliated him like that, ya know. He hates you for not killing him."

"Oh well."

"You should've killed him. I'm not nearly as merciful as you. Every day, I get a little closer to murdering him. When he finally gets on my last nerve, I won't make his death quick."

"And mine?"

"No, birdie. Your death won't be quick. It'll be slow. I'll make sure of it."

The menace in her eyes…God, I couldn't stand it, couldn't stand to think that, if I tried, I could look that cruel.

But she wasn't me. She couldn't be.

I would never be her.

{[(/*\)]}

By the time I really woke up, for about the thousandth time, the rest of the flock was in varying states of consciousness. I wasn't sure what was real of all the things I'd seen. The mirror was gone from the cell.

I was shaken, definitely. Enough so that Nudge noticed.

"What is it, Max?"

I shook my head. "Nothing, sweetie. Are you okay?"

She nodded her lie to me. I pretended not to notice the way she covered up her side. If Nudge wanted to play brave, I would let her.

Iggy was the last one awake. I made my way to his side, pressing the hem of my shirt into one of the wounds on his head. He protested loudly.

"Hey, ow! That hurts!"

"Shut up, Iggs. You're still bleeding."

"I'm the nurse here! I say leave it be!"

"Leader trumps nurse."

"So not true!"

"It is in this flock."

Iggy let me try to stop the bleeding, muttering obnoxiously under his breath.

"Are the rest of you guys basically okay?"

My question produced a mixture of yeses and nods. Iggy swatted me away. Nudge was back in the fetal position. Gazzy was playing with his fingers. Angel was staring into space.

They were more or less okay.

The flash of brown-blond hair on the other side of the bars let me know that I wasn't.

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><p>It's my birthday on Tuesday. Yup. August twenty-third. My birthday. I don't know about you guys, but I think that REVIEWS make fabulous virtual birthday gifts.<p>

REVIEW.(:


	13. The Execution

Hey, guys. This is actually my last post for the summer. I start senior year Monday. I'm really hoping to not fall behind on updates, but I know I'll be extremely busy with college applications, writing the school's fall play, school work, and finishing this story. On top of that, I'm still determined to do NaNoWriMo in two months. I'd appreciate it if you guys could be patient with me.

I was looking forward to writing this chapter, but it didn't come out as good as I had hoped. Maybe it's just 'cause I've been exposed to piles and piles of fabulous writing this summer that I don't like this chapter. Maybe you'll like it. Enjoy.

* * *

><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Thirteen: The Execution**

Fang could almost hear Max's voice in his head, yelling at him for even considering this. Still, he knew that Paige Morgan had a point: If Max had taken a gun or two, Fang wouldn't have to be saving her ass.

It felt unnatural in his hand at first. He weighed it in his grip, twirled it around a couple of times. The safety was on; they hadn't yet showed him how to turn it off.

Izumi, Artemis, and Dylan were there with Fang. He wasn't letting Pepin and Lux near a gun just yet.

Izzy hesitated to touch the weapon at first, but now she was wearing a smirk. Fang made the wise decision to not piss her off when she was holding a gun. Dylan looked like he had just made the same decision.

Artemis was handling the gun fairly well. Fang wondered if he'd held one before. He almost asked, but then Paige Morgan arrived, looking just as terrible as she had when she'd called in to the Office.

"I am glad to see you have made it here, Fang," she said. "And to see that you have taken to the training better than your friends."

"Max needs to be saved. That's my mission, and I intend to complete it."

"Good. But I ask that you do not let your personal feelings cloud your judgment."

"Right now, my personal feelings are telling me to save Max. That's what you want, too, so I wouldn't worry."

Paige assessed him, like she was making sure that was all his personal feelings were telling him.

"You leave here in an hour. Be ready."

{[(/*\)]}

Dylan led the way, first up to the roof of Headquarters, and then into the sky. That was actually okay by Fang, too. Dylan knew where they were going; Fang had no clue.

There were four of them on the mission, the same four who had been trained with the guns. Fang had decided that Lux and Pep would be better off staying behind at HQ. The less people he had to worry about losing, the better.

They circled the gray cement building when they found it. There were two guards on the roof, and Fang was relieved that they looked completely human. He leveled his gun and took aim. The bullet sailed through the air, its passage muffled by a silencer. One guard fell. Izumi took down the other one.

Dylan landed on the roof gently, careful not to put too much weight on his bad leg. Fang, Artemis, and Izzy followed suit, their descents silent. Fang radioed in while the others searched for a way into the building.

"We've made it to the roof. Almost in."

"Copy."

"There's nothing open," Izzy said as Fang shut off the radio.

"Well, you've got a gun, right? And I know you know how to—"

The sound of bullet on glass rang through the air, coming from Artemis's direction.

"Come on already. We don't have time to waste time."

"Shouldn't we have gone for a more subtle approach to entering?" Dylan remarked.

"They're gonna know we're here eventually. What's the difference if it's now or later?" Artemis shrugged.

"Well, the sooner they know we're here, the sooner they're gonna chase us, stupid," Dylan shot back.

"We were already short on time. This'll just make sure we don't forget that."

Fang kicked in the glass of the window that the bullet had penetrated. "Everybody just shut up already. What's done is done. Let's just get in there." To punctuate his statement, Fang jumped through the window.

The lights were on in the room, and the door was just closing. Fang moved away from the window, allowing sufficient space for three more bodies to drop from the sky.

"They know. We have to move fast."

"See?" Artemis muttered to no one in particular, but Dylan nudged him anyway.

"Stop messing around. Let's get moving."

{[(/*\)]}

I had no idea what the noise was about. There was shouting outside, the sound of feet on floor, slamming repeatedly. I swore that I even heard a few gunshots.

Our cell was in a room with two reptilian guards outside the door. The door was suddenly flung open by one frazzled clone and one determined superhuman. Both looked pissed off as hell.

The clone came up to the bars, my mirror back in place. Nudge, Angel, and Gazzy took a moment to absorb her familiar features and try to place her in our location. She just didn't seem to fit into their brains.

She reached a hand through the bars, and though I tried to scramble away, she managed to snatch a clump of my hair. She tugged and tugged until my head hit the metal.

"How the hell did they get in here?" she hissed fiercely.

Omega, cool and calculating, placed a hand on my twin's shoulder. "That doesn't matter, Maximum. We must move them."

A flame burned in the clone's eyes. Her grip on my hair tightened for a fleeting moment, and then she let go. I watched from the ground as she curled her fingers against her palm and swung.

Superhuman or not, Omega still had bad eyesight. He didn't expect his coconspirator to try to deck him. The clone's fist caught him in the cheekbone, turning him away from her, as her knee lifted to his groin.

Omega was on the ground in an instant. Superhuman boys apparently still had that vulnerability. My twin grinned triumphantly and spat on the ground next to his face. "I'll finish you later," she growled.

And then she turned on me, on us.

And swung her gun into her hands.

"Which one of you birdies wants to ride shotgun first?"

I didn't expect little Angel to get to her feet, trembling from all the bruises she had, visible and invisible.

"Stop." Angel's face was stone, hiding every trace of emotion. She could've given Fang a run for his money at that moment. I'd never heard her use that tone, even when she was being sassy with me. She sounded like an overwhelmed, middle-aged elementary school principal: in command, in control, despite everything.

I would've listened to whatever Angel told me to do in that tone of voice. I wasn't all too surprised when my twin hesitated, her gun lowering a few degrees.

I don't know if the clone would've recovered from the fact that a ten-year-old had the guts to boss her around. To this day, I don't know how they found us. I've never really asked.

The door flew open once again. My heart soared, and my stomach sank. I would know that messy black hair anywhere. He kept blowing at his bangs to keep them from flopping into their eyes, even though he looks so much handsomer with the slight mystery his shaggy hair casts on his forehead.

He had good reason to keep his eyes clear, though: The gun he was holding rivaled the clone's in size.

We were all watching him, even Omega groaning on the floor. Fang looked my twin up and down, and then his gaze traveled to me, bloody, bruised, and broken, on the other side of the bars.

Dylan came in right after Fang, his back to us. He fired his gun into the world outside the room and the cell that were my prison. A body fell across the floor in front of the doorway. A human body.

What the hell had happened to him?

Fang's gun was pointed at the ground. Dylan aimed his straight ahead, first at Omega, writhing in pain on the floor, then at my twin, at me, and back at my twin.

"What the— Which one?"

Fang gestured at him to put the gun down. Dylan did so. Fang shot at the lock to our cell. The door creaked open.

That was when the clone lunged at Fang, gripping his shoulders and shoving at him until he was pinned against the opposite wall. Omega found his strength—which I suspected he'd never lost—and went for Dylan.

Dylan had a gun. Omega didn't. Do the math. Superhuman didn't mean bulletproof.

I snapped into the moment, my senses back on track. The door of the cell was open. I had enough energy to move.

"Get out, guys! Come on!" I ordered.

Iggy found Nudge, helped her to her feet, and then he scooped her up in his arms. Nudge looked surprised, but she hooked her arms around his neck, wincing at the sting of her wound.

Gazzy tugged on his little sister's hand, pulling her out of the cell. Angel hesitated for a moment, her feet firmly planted to the spot where she's told my twin to stop. She looked concerned, but she wasn't focusing at all on the situation at hand. Her eyes were almost vacant as her brother guided her out of hell.

Izumi and Artemis appeared at the door, both of them armed with guns like Dylan's and Fang's. Artemis took Nudge from Iggy and kissed her cheek. Izumi guided Iggy, placing a hand on his back. She ushered Gazzy and Angel in front of her.

That was when I could focus on Fang. He was wrestling with my clone, guns aside.

Now, Fang has his chivalric moments. He can be a gentleman. There are times when he'll open a door for me, or hold out my chair. But when we fight—really fight—he loses the gentleman. He'll push and shove, yell in my face.

Still. I've never seen Fang beat up a girl, let alone one that looked like me.

Punches and kicks, flesh smacking on flesh. Fists, teeth, nails, palms. All flailing, all landing on vague targets. Fang had the upper hand, but then again, he'd watched me fight for more than eighteen years, and he knew my every move inside and out.

I wanted to help him out, to end the fight even faster, but Dylan stopped me just as I was about to take a step.

"He needs to do this, Max. Let him."

Finally, the strap that was holding her gun to her person snapped. Fang lifted her by the sleeves of her shirt and smashed her against the wall. He held her there with one arm across her throat and used the other hand to reach for his gun—

"STOP!" It took me a moment to realize that I'd been the one to bellow the word, to realize that I was running towards the brawl.

Why the hell was I—? Never mind.

I placed firm hand on Fang's shoulder. My twin's face was plastered with fresh blood, the sticky liquid running down her hairline. Her eyes were only half open. She was trying to get Fang off of her, but she didn't have enough strength to make him budge.

Fang tried to pull away from my grip, but I wouldn't let him.

"Fang!" I shouted, inches away from his ear.

That snapped him awake, if only for a moment. His eyes widened as he looked at the gun in his hand, the girl's neck pinned to the wall with his forearm. He turned to look at me, took in my disheveled, beat-up state, and held on tighter.

"Go, Max. You need help."

"_I_ need help? Really, Fang?"

"Go."

"No. Let go of the gun, let go of her. Come on."

Fang shoved the barrel of the gun into the clone instead. "She's not even supposed to exist!"

The gun in her stomach seemed to bring a bit of strength back to my twin. She tried to push the death instrument away, but Fang dug it deeper into her abdomen.

I placed both hands on Fang's face and turned his head, locking onto his eyes. "What the hell happened to you?"

He dropped both the gun and the girl then. My twin didn't even reach for the weapon; she was too busy trying to bring life back into her body with every breath of oxygen.

Fang's eyes had an apology written all over them. Two gunshots made us look away from each other. Dylan was just lowering his weapon.

"Are you guys done? 'Cause we gotta get our asses outta here before we're dead."

Fang reached down for his own gun and grabbed my hand, his eyes emotionless again.

The others were already out. They'd entered a room with a skylight, shot out the glass, and taken off. They were still hovering around outside the building, waiting for us.

As we flew back to Headquarters at top speed, leaving the hellish circus behind us, I realized that the reptile dudes didn't have wings or anything. I thought this realization would calm me down and slow my own wings. It didn't.

And I couldn't help but wonder what would happen to my twin. Would she be punished for letting us escape? Would she have been better off with Fang just killing her?

Fang…God. What had happened to Fang and his flock?

Things had changed without me.

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><p>Thanks to all who reviewed last chapter and wished me a happy birthday. You guys are magnificent.<p>

REVIEW.


	14. The Effect

So, I've just finished the first week of my senior year. UGH. Not going according to plan so far. Whatever.

I seriously have like 150 words written of the next chapter. That's not good. At all. I'll be typing my fingers off this week, it seems.

Enjoy.

WAIT! By the by, this chapter goes out to **Kina Kalamari**, who is just plain awesome and submitted the one hundredth review of this story.(:

NOW you can enjoy.

* * *

><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Fourteen: The Effect**

"OW!" I shouted. The tiny woman flinched, as if my voice brought her physical pain.

"I just need to—"

"You don't understand! I'll say it again: It'll be all better soon enough. We heal faster than regular people. If anyone needs help, it's Nudge!"

"She's already in surgery."

"WHAT?"

"Well, not surgery exactly—"

"She's in freaking _surgery_? Who the hell's in charge here?"

She pointed timidly to a man standing in the corner, looking over Iggy.

"Tell him to get his ass over here _now_ before I put _him_ under the knife!"

The woman scurried away and tapped the man's shoulder. He turned around.

Oh _hell_ no.

He sighed heavily and made his way toward me, the frail woman in tow.

"Vhat seems to be de problem?"

I glared straight into the eyes of Roland "Rollie-Pollie-Ollie" ter Borcht.

"De problem, Doc, is that you've got Nudge in surgery _without my consent_."

"Vould you rather I not operate?"

"Yes."

"Den I shall have dem stop de operation."

"Thank you. That's all I ask."

"You should haf about five minutes to say good-bye."

"What are you talking about?"

"Eef I stop de operation now, she vill not live."

My jaw tightened. He was _so_ not giving me this ultimatum.

"Shall I tell dem to stop?"

"No," I snapped.

"Okay, good. She should be out soon anyway. Eet was a awful gash, but ve vill steetch eet right up."

"Fine."

"And how are you feeling? Anysing still hurting?"

"Nope. Can I go?"

"Yes, you may."

I pushed myself off of the cot, one of the many in this room that was serving as a sort of hospital wing. I went around to the other beds in the room, looking for anyone I knew. There were a few soldiers, as well as Iggy and Gazzy.

"Where's Angel?" I asked the Gasman.

He shrugged. "I dunno. I think I saw her leave a little while ago with Lux."

"Alright, thanks. You feeling okay?"

Gazzy pointed to the bandage that was wound tightly around his ankle. "You tell me."

I patted his shoulder. "You hang in there, 'kay?"

Gazzy nodded. I went to check on Iggs.

"Hey."

He was staring straight up at the ceiling. "Hi, Max."

"You feeling any better?"

"I'm just glad to be out of there for now. And I can't feel whatever was hurting anymore."

"Good."

"Max?"

"Yeah?"

"How much longer do you think we'll be here?"

"Until we're done with this mess. Or until they decide we're not useful anymore."

"So not too long, either way."

"Yup."

"Well, that's a good thing." He sighed.

I rubbed his shoulder. "You miss her, don't you?"

Iggy started coughing. I worried for a millisecond, and then I noticed the slight curve of his lips. Trying to avoid the question. I shoved at his shoulder.

"I didn't quite catch the question, Max. But I swear I just saw Fang over there…"

I turned to look, then—

"Wait! You can't see, you idiot!"

"Man, you remembered that, did you?"

"So intent on not answering the question…"

"Hmm?"

I shoved at his shoulder again. "Whatever. I know that the answer is yes, even if you won't tell me. I'll catch you later."

Iggy was still chuckling when I left.

{[(/*\)]}

"What do you mean?"

"I—"

"This wouldn't have happened if you'd just stuck to the goddamn plan!"

"Please, Lux. I— It doesn't feel right. I need—"

"Like hell. You should've thought of that before you—"

"Do we have a problem here, ladies?" I asked, rounding the corner, crossing my arms.

Angel's back was to me, and Lux was glaring at her. She finally looked up at me and smiled sweetly. Scary. "Everything's okay, actually. Just a bit of a misunderstanding." She stared at me intently, and a picture of the prison cell flashed through my mind.

"What happened to your blocks?" she asked me casually.

"My…?"

"Your mental blocks. They're gone."

"What?"

She sighed and began to repeat herself slowly.

"No, no, I got that. But they can't be gone. I…"

"Max." Lux suddenly did look like a girl of her age should in this situation: scared. "What did they do to you over there?"

Angel—who hadn't turned to look at me throughout this entire exchange—sighed in frustration and stalked away, her shoes clacking against the cement floor of the hallway.

"Is she okay?" I didn't particularly want to answer Lux's question.

She bit her lip. I wonder if Fang realized that my habit was evidently contagious.

"I don't think so. She says…"

"What, Lux? What is it?"

"She says she can't get in. That she can't read anyone's thoughts anymore. Nobody's."

"Maybe she's just tired."

"Yeah, that's what I tried to tell her, that if she'd followed what's-her-face's plan and gotten some rest, she would be okay. But she won't listen to me."

"I'll try to talk to her…"

"I dunno, Max. I'm her best friend, and she won't listen to me."

"I've known her her whole life, Lux. She'll listen to me."

Lux shrugged. "If you say so. You might wanna talk to Jeb about putting your blocks back up. If it was anything like I could tell from what I saw in your thoughts, you're gonna need your blocks, you know?"

I cocked a brow. "So you're just having a field day digging through my thoughts, aren't you?"

"Just what you're thinking of. If I summon a thought, you'll see it, too."

"Mmhmm…."

Lux peered around me briefly. "I'll see you around, 'kay?"

"Okay."

She grinned, ducked around me, and skipped away.

I didn't even hear his footsteps.

"Max."

If I hadn't recognized the voice—the same one I'd been listening to for almost nineteen years—I would've jumped a mile.

"Jesus, Fang. Don't sneak up on me like that."

"Lux's retreat should've clued you in."

"Apparently not."

"Can we talk?"

"Isn't that what we're doing?"

Fang gave me an irritated look, letting me know that my humor was not appreciated.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Are you okay?"

"Are you stupid?"

"Sorry, yeah, dumb question. You've got your attitude back: you're okay."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Fang leaned against the wall and rubbed at his eyes. "Look, Max, you just had me really worried. I mean, when I heard that you'd been captured…"

"I promised you I'd be alright, didn't I?"

"Yeah."

"I like to keep my promises, unlike some people."

He glared at me. "What the hell, Max."

"Just saying."

"Yeah, well, why don't you try hearing that your girlfriend is in trouble, all because she wouldn't pick up a stupid gun. What would you do?"

"I wouldn't bust a Rambo and start shooting people."

"I saved your ass. Give me some credit."

"You gunned down about a dozen people. That takes away whatever credit you would've had."

"That's stupid."

"You're stupid."

"You're being ridiculous, Max. Did you really think you could get through your life without once picking up a firearm?"

"I've been doing a damn good job for almost nineteen years."

"Why don't you just try it, Max. Then maybe you wouldn't be getting into so much trouble."

"I'd rather not. I don't expect you to understand, though: You've never been on the wrong end of the barrel."

He sighed in exasperation. "Really, Max? You still hold that against her?"

"She was seven, and she pointed a freaking _gun_ at me! Yes, I still hold it against her!"

"She didn't know what she was doing!"

"Like hell she didn't know! She was practically holding me hostage!"

"Desperate times—"

"Don't even pull that line, Fang. I am not about to hand a gun to her!"

"That doesn't mean you can't use one."

I stared at him for a moment, incredulous. "Have they brainwashed you or something? What the hell is your problem? I thought you didn't even like violence!"

"I'd rather dish it out than take it."

"So freaking hypocritical!"

"Well, what did you want me to do, Max? Leave in that prison cell to rot? Charge in like you did and rot right beside you?"

I glowered at him, trying to break through the darkness of his eyes. Thick darkness.

"I decided to save us, Max. You, me, our flocks. That's what I chose. If you would rather we have rotted, then that's your problem, not mine. Don't shun me for doing the right thing."

"But where does it end?"

"What?"

"Do you just shoot the people in your way? The ones who attack you? Or the ones who run from you, too?"

"Max—"

"Listen to me! Are you gonna pick up that gun again? Go do Paige Morgan's dirty work?"

"M—"

"When does it stop? When we've blown these bastards up? When you've shot a hundred people? Two hundred?"

"It's not—"

"No, it's never like that, is it? But it is, Fang. To me, it is."

"It was their lives, or you and your flock. To me, that's a no-brainer."

"We've never had to resort to that before, Fang!"

"You've never been in that situation before! Never, Max. Never have we been put in a battlefield."

I have an armory of sharp words, always ready to be launched from my tongue. But I halted the catapulting.

Why?

Because Fang had a point.

"Jeb…"

"Jeb isn't in charge anymore."

"Then I guess I just have one more reason to hate Paige Morgan."

"And me?"

"What about you?"

"Another reason to hate me?"

He didn't give anything away as he asked this. I couldn't find any lead to pick up on in his expression.

"No," I decided.

"Then…?"

"Did you like it?"

"Huh?"

"Shooting people. Holding that gun in your hands. Did you like it?"

"I…"

I waited.

"I don't know."

"Of course."

"But Max? I really did just do it to save you. You know I wouldn't have touched a gun otherwise."

"I don't know…"

"Come on. What, I pick up a weapon, and you lose faith in me?"

"No, it's not that. It's something you were trying to say."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. 'Desperate time calls for desperate measures,' right?"

"Uh-huh."

"I see what you mean."

"Okay."

"And for the record? I would've done the same for you."

"Hopefully you won't have to."

I reached out and wrapped my arms around his torso, pressing myself against him.

"Y'know, I think I'm just about done taking orders from this lady."

"Took you long enough to come around."

"Let's finish this mission first. Then we can deliver the news to her."

"Sounds good to me."

I pulled away, but only inches. I could still feel Fang's breath on my face. It wasn't in the uncomfortable way that the Eraser's breath was always fanning my face when he talked to me. _If_ he was actually talking to me, I corrected myself. Everything about Fang was warm and comforting to me, not in the least bit repulsive, like that stupid Eraser.

His lips touched my forehead. My eyes slid shut.

"Max?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you gonna do if she sends us back out there?"

Pause for a thought. I listened to the rhythm of Fang's heart, the air traveling through his lungs.

My eyes opened. "I'm gonna fight."

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><p>Next chapter is kinda slow... After that, I swear things get intense. At least, I'm hoping they do.(:<p>

REVIEWS are MAGNIFICENT. It doesn't get much better than that. Spread the magnificence of REVIEWS.


	15. Heart of Stone

So...

To **desperatelyobvious** and **Kina Kalamari**:

THANK YOU for critiquing. Much appreciated. Sorry about the lack of dialogue tags and actions in between the dialogue. Your remarks tell me two things: one, I took my teacher WAY too seriously when he said he didn't like dialogue tags; and two, I've been spending too much time on my play. I have another argument scene in this chapter, and I hope I've done a better job with it. Again, thank you.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Fifteen: Heart of Stone**

I didn't really pay attention to everything that Paige Morgan was saying. For all I cared, she was spouting words that were totally irrelevant to me and completely relevant to, say, purple pandas being hunted in Luxembourg. But then she said Fang's name, so of course I started paying attention.

Paige sat down in one of the non-twirly chairs around the conference table. Fang stood, all eyes on him.

"So, in Washington, we got one critical name: Nino Pierpont. Pierpont supported Max's flock financially for several years, but he stopped sending money about three years ago."

I remembered that. We had a bit of a crisis for a moment, not sure if we would have to go back to being nomads, if our safe house was still safe. I never thought I'd hear his name again.

"It seems he may have been fooling Max's flock from the beginning."

I didn't like how easily Fang could say "Max's flock," as if he had never been a part of it. I didn't like the separation it suggested, the distance that it implied was between us. I wanted to remind him that at the time Nino Pierpont started funding "Max's flock," he was a part of that flock.

"From what we can determine, he's a big part of this war, if not its main cause. Ever since we left Washington, we've been keeping tabs on him. He left the States two days ago. We assume he's here."

Seemed logical enough to me. The guy funding the war would eventually want to see for himself what was going on, right?

Fang sat down, letting out a long breath. Paige looked at Dylan, who was already getting up.

"Um, so, in the days that you guys"—he gestured at me, Iggy, Nudge, Angel, and Gazzy—"were…uh, being held hostage, I got to know the area around the enemy's base very well. I know where every tree is, where every leaf is going to fall. I know how to get a look inside without being spotted, I know all the official entrances, and a few of the unofficial ones, and all the exits. Most importantly, I think I know what's going on inside."

"Besides brutal interrogations?" Iggy remarked.

"Uh, yeah. Max's clone, the boy, and the reptile things aren't the only ones in there. Their creators or leaders or whatever are there, too. And a hell of a lot more experiments."

"Did you actually see any of these experiments, Dylan?" I asked, cocking a brow.

"Yeah, too many, actually."

"Great."

"So, anyway, it looked to me like they were training these guys for combat. Kinda like what we've been doing here. Except they're all, like, really, really good and look ready to kick some ass. You guys remember that Eraser that was on the battlefield, right?"

Yeses and nods. How could any of us have forgotten that?

"Well, I think that was kinda a test run. They're getting all the experiments ready for battle. Think of the havoc one mutant wreaked. Now multiply that by, like, fifty."

"Holy crap, but won't that, like, end the war?" Nudge asked.

"I assume that's kinda the point, Nudge," Izumi answered.

I put up one hand, a signal for silence.

"Okay, which side is this Pierpont guy on?"

"Um…" Fang scratched his head. "That's a really good question."

"Is he maybe faking it?"

"Huh?"

"'Cause he's from the States, so maybe he's paying for our side of the war, but really working for the other side," I mused.

"Why would he do that?" Pep asked.

I shrugged. "I dunno."

"Yeah, I mean, if he's working for the crazy people, wouldn't he want to keep the U.S. out of this?" Gazzy added.

I bit my lip, ignoring the look Fang gave me. The light bulb clicked on, and I snapped my fingers.

"Unless he wanted to drag us here and knew that wouldn't happen unless he dragged our country into this, because he knew that then our country would drag _us_ into it."

There was silence for a moment, before Artemis blurted, "Wait, what?"

"He's funding the war to get us here. And he totally just got what he wanted."

It took a moment for this to all sink in to everyone's brains. Some of them, i.e., Gazzy, Nudge, Dylan, Lux, Artemis, Pepin, got these sort of profound looks on their faces, like they had at last reached clarity. The others wore unchanging masks, like they were unfazed by this. Angel was the odd one out; she just looked like she was gonna blow chunks.

Paige Morgan moved to stand, and Dylan sank right back into his seat. Paige looked sharp as usual: hair hanging straight down, barely moving even when she walked, glasses resting in the perfect position on the bridge of her nose, makeup flawless, clothes smoothed and unwrinkled. I wondered in anything could unhinge her, because I would've paid to see that woman unruffled.

"A very interesting theory, Maximum."

"Well, what're we gonna do? What's our next move?"

Paige Morgan puckered her lips contemplatively. "We fight fire with fire."

"Meaning…?"

"They have an army of mutants, according to Dylan. We have an army of humans, and in that fight, we will lose miserably. However, we happen to have eleven mutants who are highly skilled and can no doubt give us an edge."

I did a quick headcount of the mutants in the room. Crap. Holy flying crap. A string of curses passed through my brain at top speed, one for each mutant in the room. One two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven. Don't ask me how I came up with that many cuss words.

Not good.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up, hold the freak up. You're gonna send us _back_ out there?"

"Yes, Maximum. It would appear that you and your cohorts are our only hope for pulling through this."

I'd heard that line in a million variations throughout the eighteen—almost nineteen—years I'd been breathing. I'd stopped believing it a long time ago. Only hope, my ass.

"Did you not just hear what I said? This whole thing is a freaking trap _for us_! Send us out there, and we're goners!"

"That is why we must arm you."

I knew what she was getting at, and even though I didn't say anything immediately, she continued defensively.

"I understand that you do not like to use firearms, Maximum. But this is not just about you anymore. Your life depends on this, as well as the lives of your friends and the lives of everyone here. You must do this."

I didn't snap at her this time. _Just a little longer_. After this mission, I would be respectfully (ha-ha) requesting that Paige Morgan step down from her position as head of the Maximum Ride Project. If I was refused, I planned to put her in the position of having to change the project's name. I doubted she would like that much.

{[(/*\)]}

Paige escorted us all down to the one lesson that I'd forced my flock to skip: how to use a gun. I don't know if that's what it was actually called, but whatever. I wanted to scream at her and everyone else, refuse to touch the things, but I forced myself to shut up for once.

Instead of protesting, I weighed the _thing_ in my hand. It was heavy, definitely. It didn't feel right to be holding it.

The instructor (the only one who actually had the pleasure of really instructing me) pointed to something. "That's the safety. You can't shoot unless it's off."

I absentmindedly brushed my fingers along the thing he was indicating. One move—right or wrong, depending on how you look at it—and I could turn this ugly thing into a weapon of death.

It was simple, really. I lifted the gun. I looked where I was pointing it.

And I pulled the trigger.

{[(/*\)]}

I knocked on the door lightly. I had only started toward their room when I'd seen Lux out and about…without her better half.

Angel's response was a grunt. The door was already ajar, so I took this as an invitation inside.

Angel was sprawled across her bed, face buried in her pillow, tiny hands gripping the fabric. Well, at least, the hands were tiny once upon a time. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that Angel was ten.

"Hi, Max," she said, her voice muffled by the pillow. She was wearing a dirty pair of jeans and a pink shirt. Her hair, which had just been growing for years, was unbrushed.

"Hey, kiddo." I sat down at the edge of her bed. "What's up?"

"Nothing." Her answer was too rapid for it to be believable. She must have known that.

"Angel, just talk to me."

"Why do you suddenly care?"

Ouch. "What do you mean? I've always cared."

"Could've fooled me."

I placed my hand on her shoulder. She didn't move. "Angel…what's going on?"

She shot up, faster than the bullets from the gun I'd been practicing with a few hours earlier. "Why don't you just go away, Max? Just leave me the hell alone!"

"Don't use that tone—or that language—with me."

She made a big show of rolling her eyes at me. "Oh, please. Don't try to start playing the parent all of a sudden."

"What's gotten into you?"

"Me? I'm fine; I'm perfectly sane. You're so blind, Max. Blinder than Iggs."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She threw her hands up in frustration, her blond curls flying everywhere. One hit me in the face. She didn't seem to notice.

"God, Max! You're barely a part of this flock anymore. You're always off making out with your boyfriend, and when you're not, you're pining for him."

I got up from the bed, glaring at her. "Shut up, Angel. Now is _so_ not the time for another power struggle between the two of us."

"It wouldn't be another one; it's been an ongoing struggle, Max."

"Just because I fell apart three years ago and you managed to get control of the flock doesn't mean that I'll let you undermine me again."

"But you're being stupid, Max. So freaking stupid."

"Yeah, well, it's not like you could do better."

"You never know."

I crossed my arms across my chest. "That's right, I'll never know, because you won't get the chance to show us your _remarkable_ leadership skills."

Angel jumped onto her feet, her sheets tangling around her shoes. She stood six inches taller than me at the moment. She raised a singled finger and shoved it in my face.

"You're leading us into a trap, Max. This isn't gonna end well."

I stared at her finger for a moment, before snidely replying, "What, did you suddenly rediscover your powers? Or are you just psychic for the day?"

"What?" She backed off a bit, her hand falling to her side.

I took a step closer. "Lux told me that you hadn't been feeling well, that you were having some trouble reading people's thoughts."

I swear her eyes flashed red, a rich blood red, before she muttered, "That bitch."

"Language!"

"Don't lecture _me_ on language!"

"Angel, just tell me, did they do something to you that took away your powers?"

"Go away, Max. Just go."

"Talk to me."

"No. Don't you get it? I don't want your freaking help. Just leave me alone. If you won't listen to me, I'll take care of it myself."

"Angel—"

"Bye, Max."

We both stood there for a good five minutes, our arms crossed, our eyes narrowed in harsh gazes, just staring each other down.

I swear, it wasn't because I was intimidated. Nature was calling me. I turned on my heel and I walked out. Angel stepped off the bed and slammed the door shut behind me.

* * *

><p>I have a big week coming up. I'm taking my ACT test tomorrow morning at the ungodly hour of eight in the morning (and they wonder why we American kids don't do so well on these things...), and then I'm testing for my driver's license on Tuesday. The second one is the important one to me at the moment. My driving permit expires the day after the test, so if I fail, I have to start the process all over again...<p>

Yeah, that whole paragraph pretty much had nothing to do with this story.

REVIEW. PLEASE. REVIEW.**  
><strong>


	16. The Birthday

I hope you guys are doing swell. Personally, I've just gone through a week straight from my own personal hell. Ugh. Whatever.

Confession: I was up till like eleven last night finishing this chapter for you guys. I hope it's appreciated.

Enjoy.

* * *

><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Sixteen: The Birthday**

I seriously doubt that Iggy was supposed to be where I found him. I'd been looking for him after my encounter with Angel, just to ask him if he could maybe talk to her. Iggy and Angel had always had a sort of bond that was beyond my understanding. I thought that if she was fighting with her best friend and there was anyone left in the world that could get through to her, it was Iggy.

Angel, Angel, Angel. I couldn't get the image of her out of my mind. Obviously, she'd been standing on the bed just to try to show superiority to me. Arms crossed, eyes glaring down at me. Man…

Iggy had found a computer. I have no idea how he managed to do that, let alone how he was able to turn it on and use it. There are times that I consider Iggy a walking miracle (most of the time he's just a walking pain). This was one of those times.

Iggy's back was to me; he was staring intently at the computer screen, like he could see every pixel, when I knew he couldn't even see one. I wasn't sure what he was doing at first, why the image on the screen kept moving. A movie, was my first thought. But Iggs doesn't like to watch movies alone. At the very least, he needs Fang or Dylan there to tell him how hot the female lead is. Once I realized who was on the screen, I had the feeling that Iggy would give this girl a solid ten, and if he didn't, I'd have a bone to pick with him.

Ella was smiling at him. "Ig," she said. "It's great to see you."

"I wish I could say the same," Iggy responded.

"How are you? You look—"

"I'm fine. Compared to some of the others, I'm fine."

"What happened?"

"You don't know?"

"No. My mom wouldn't let me go. After we got back from D.C., she just told me to stay at the house. I'm not supposed to go anywhere, just in case…y'know."

Iggy sighed. Ella started to look worried.

"Oh my God. No one…died, right?" She ended on a whisper.

Iggy shook his head, hair like ember flying everywhere. "No, no, El. Nothing like that. But we've just been pretty beat up. See, we got captured."

"What?"

"Max, Angel, Gazzy, Nudge, and me. We all got captured by the bad guys."

"Are you guys okay?" Her voice rose to a panicked octave.

"Nudge got the worst of it. They practically sliced her open. And then Dylan got shot in the leg."

"What about you?"

"I got a concussion. All that's left of it is a bump."

Ella didn't say anything for a few moments. She just took in deep, deep breaths, letting each out in a _whoosh_.

"El?"

"Just…be careful, Iggy. Please. I…I don't wanna lose you."

"I am being careful."

"It doesn't look like it from this end."

"Don't worry about me, Ella. I'll be fine."

"How can I not worry? You're fearless. You'll do whatever you need to do to help the flock, no matter what it does to you."

"You're wrong."

"What?" Ella pulled the word right out of my mouth.

"You're wrong."

"No, Iggy, you can't give up on the flock—"

"Don't worry; I'm not. It's just…"

"What is it?" she whispered.

"'And El, I'll have you know I'm scared to death,'" Iggy sang quietly.

Wait…sang? Wow. Who knew he could…sing? And he didn't sound half bad.

"Iggy…"

"I'm scared, El. I'm scared out of my freaking mind."

Ella rested her face in her hands. "God, Iggs."

"I'll be careful. I swear I will, Ella. I'll stay alive, just to hold you again."

Ella finally looked up. She was crying, tears trickling down her skin soundlessly.

"Okay. I love you." Ella pressed her fingers to her lips and then to her side of the screen.

"I love you, too." Iggy's hand touched the screen on his side.

I wasn't sure if they were done or what, but I was. I'd invaded their privacy enough.

{[(/*\)]}

He was there when I rounded the corner, leaning against the wall as if it was the most normal, casual thing in the world. There was no one else around to witness my…I don't know. Maybe it was a good time to admit that my head wasn't exactly screwed on tight at the time. I hate to think it, even now. I was seriously starting to think that I was losing it for real, especially because there was never anyone there to share in my…okay, I'll say it: my insanity.

He grinned when he saw me, that scary, unnatural, face-splitting grin of his, the one I'd come to despise so much. His teeth glinted brightly, sharply, in the harsh fluorescent light of the hall.

"Hello, birdie."

I was growing sick of this routine, and there was no way in hell that I wanted him to know just how much seeing him irked me. I crossed my arms, cocked a hip, raised a brow, and said, "What do you want _this_ time?"

"Same thing I've wanted all along, birdie." He didn't even try to hide the menacing glint in his eyes.

"You aren't even really here. You pose no threat to me."

He peeled himself off the wall and closed the distance between us. I stood my ground.

He bent down and looked me in the eye. I could hear his breathing, make out every single strand of fur. I almost offered him a Tic-Tac, for the sake of my olfactory.

"Not here? Are you sure of that, birdie?"

He moved quicker than I could process, which _never_ happens. His hand planted itself firmly on the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair. I could _feel_ it.

He didn't make a move to injure me. He merely pulled me closer to him, never releasing my gaze. For the briefest instant, his teeth grazed my skin. I was rooted to the spot. I would not show fear.

"Trust me: I'm just as real as you are, birdie. The question is, how real a_re_ you?"

I'd had enough of him. I'd been getting sick of most everyone lately. I pulled back violently, shoving at him. He chuckled.

"We'll meet again, birdie. Soon enough. Unless, of course, you come to your senses. You're smart enough, if you try. You just haven't been trying very hard as of late. Poor birdie. I'll catch you later."

I've never been able to remember what happened to him after that. He's just gone, and I'm still walking through the halls. Even in that immediate moment, I couldn't remember where he'd gone, only that he'd been there, breathing down my skin, making me fall into his frightening, endless eyes.

I was walking, and then I was running.

Running, running, running. Through the hallways of HQ, past people, faces. Ones I recognized and ones I'd never seen before. I swore that I saw him laughing in the midst of some of them, or grinning at me from behind closed doors with little glass windows. But laughing, always laughing, at me, at my stupidity, at my rashness, I don't know.

I ran until I saw the door that I recognized as mine. The door that led to the room I'd been assigned to. I would be okay in there. He couldn't get me in there. I was sure of it.

I don't know why I'd gotten so panicked. I clutched the knob, my fingers slipping over each other. I pressed one palm into the wall beside my door and pulled with all my might. Then I launched into the room, pulling the door shut behind me.

And then I slipped.

Maybe I'd been running too fast, maybe my brain was so scattered that it didn't have the energy to make sure that one foot was in front of the other. I don't know, I don't know.

His hands grabbed my shoulders before I could fall. My first instinct was to push and shove against him, get out of his grasp. I didn't stop struggling until I heard his voice.

"Whoa, whoa, Max. What's wrong?"

Fang's eyes are an entirely different sort of darkness, alike and unlike the Eraser's. The Eraser's eyes were the darkness of an unknown abyss, a place you never want to go because it sends chills racing through your body. Fang's eyes are the darkness of your bedroom at night, when you're tucked up under the covers, waiting for sleep. One brings fright; the other, peace.

I stopped pushing against Fang and threw my arms around his neck. He hugged me back, and it wasn't until I was locked in his arms that I realized I was shaking.

"Shhh. It's okay, Max. I'm here, I've got you. Shhh."

I just closed my eyes and tried to focus on calming my body down. Breathe in slowly, deeply. Let it out. In. Out.

"What is it, Max?" he asked quietly. I could feel his Adam's apple bob against my shoulder when he gulped. "What aren't you telling me?"

I'd been seeing the same Eraser for more than six months, ever since Maya Dogum's funeral. He'd been there, I remembered. And then later that same night.

Fang, I'm going crazy. Oh, yeah, that would sound _fabulous_. I didn't want to say that to him. I knew that could make him question my every move, second-guess every call I made. I couldn't afford to have him not trust me one hundred percent.

"Max, please. Just tell me. I want to help you. I don't like seeing you like this."

Through thick and thin, Fang had been there for me, more or less. Yeah, we've had our disagreements. Yeah, we've had our breakups. But at the end of the day, he cares about me. He loves me.

I took a deep breath. "Can we sit?" My voice was so much smaller than I intended for it to be.

Fang wordlessly guided us over to my bed and sat us on the edge. His arms loosened and he pulled back enough to meet my eyes. A silent plea for honesty.

I may have been going around the bend, but I was sane enough to realize how good it felt to get things off my chest. I didn't realize until I opened my mouth how much I'd been wanting to tell him about the Eraser I'd been seeing.

I hadn't realized how much I _needed_ to tell him.

Fang didn't say anything at first. I think I would've been more worried if he _had _said something immediately after. But all he did was pull me closer to him, rubbing circles right in between my wings. He kissed my hair, our chests rising and falling in sync.

"It'll be okay, Max. They're just trying to psych you out."

I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing steadily. Then I said the words I hadn't been expecting to say, the words that I soon realized were truer than any truth I'd ever known.

"I'm done, Fang."

I couldn't deny the slight hint of alarm in his voice. "What?"

Oops. That came out wrong.

"I mean, after this mission, I'm done. I quit. I never asked for this job, and I don't wanna do it anymore. I've done more than my share of world-saving. I'm done," I clarified.

"Max…. Are you sure?"

"Yes. Nineteen years, Fang. Nineteen freaking years. I don't want this."

"Okay. Okay."

"What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you gonna keep on at it? Or are you gonna quit?"

"Quit sounds bad. How about retire?"

I laughed quietly. "Alright. We're retiring then."

"Where you go, I go, Max. At least, as long as you'll let me."

"I'll always let you, Fang. Always."

There was silence between us for the next few minutes, that peaceful silence, that sense of relief. That beautiful, fragile paradise that finds the means to exist briefly between the most chaotic moments of life.

"Almost nineteen years." Fang's voice was rough, like he was reluctant to break the silence.

"Hm?"

"You said nineteen years. Not yet. You have a couple more days."

I thought about it for a moment, counting the days in my head. Sure enough, Fang was right. I had four days to kill before I could officially call myself nineteen.

"I hope we're home by then."

"That's a big wish."

"But birthday wishes are the kind that are supposed to come true."

Fang chuckled. "I guess we'll have to see."

"Even if we aren't out of here by then, at least I'll have you," I whispered. "That's all I really need."

"I second that."

I pulled away from his shoulder, just enough to be level with his face, his eyes, his lips…

Fang has amazing lips. You'd think that after years of running and sleeping in the oddest of outdoor places (Such as: Central Park trees, various caves, beaches, subways, park benches, and, once, the ladder of a fire truck. Don't ask how we pulled that off.) and hours upon hours of heat and sun, his lips would've been chapped so many times that they would be rough, coarse. But they aren't. The exact opposite, actually. Warm and soft and smooth and silky. God, just thinking about them makes me want to kiss him.

Anyways, I leaned in closer to him, and when the gap had shrunken to about the diameter of a piece of pencil lead, he reached out and captured my lips in his.

I know, I know. It seems stupid and out of place that we were making out on my bed in a military base thingy on the edge of a battlefield, just days before we were supposed to go (back) into combat. Like, love and war are only supposed to be side-by-side in that phrase "all's fair in love and war." But when you think about it, it's actually fitting that they go together. Love and war balance each other out. Love lessens the devastation of war; war raises the preciousness of love.

I'm not big on this sappy stuff. You guys know that. You'll never catch me reading some racy romance novel, or watching some stupid chick flick. Fang isn't that type either. But there's something about the two of us being together that just produces sappiness. I have no excuse for that.

Fang and I hadn't _really _kissed in a while. In the time we'd been reunited, we'd been too caught up with other things to get to that. Those "it's been sooo long" kisses can easily get out of hand. One minute it's just harmless, the graceful movement of lips on lips. Then, slowly but surely—or maybe not so slowly—things pick up. Hands start to fly around, to trace patterns on body parts, caress skin. Skeletons move under the unconscious orders of a brain that thinks it knows what it's doing.

Fang and I were soon on our sides, our lips never disconnecting. His hands on my face, neck, back, hips. My legs tangled in his.

Fang on top of me, his eyes alive with more emotion than I'd ever seen in him before. Hands curiously roaming to places they'd only roamed to before with great hesitance. Neither of us was hesitating now. Mouths ever lingering, always imprinted on flesh.

Roll over. My legs on either side of him. Fingers touching buttons, sliding them out of holes. More fingers (since when were there so many?) caught in belt loops and pockets. Lips gone from lips, finding refuge elsewhere. The brush of feathers against bare skin. Breathing, swift and heavy.

Hair. Why the hell was it so long? His hair stuck in my fingers, creeping into my mouth. Mine sticking to his sweaty face, being moved about by his hands so that he could kiss my neck.

Clothes, clothes, clothes. Slipping away, tossed away, spinning through the air…

And then, through all the lust and the love and whatever the hell else there was, the distinct weight of _fear_, rampaging through my stomach, marching upward toward my heart, my throat.

The mantra of "oh my God oh my God oh my God," swirling through my brain, the only coherent words amidst the jumble of nonsense.

Snapping awake, out of the most blissful trance in existence. Eyes watching his earnest expression as he kissed me and I kissed him.

Pulling away, collapsing next to him, limbs still tangled. He propped himself onto his arm, and for a moment I thought he was going to try and continue. Press his body on mine, let me run my hands through his feathers.

He took one look at me, exasperated and confused, and didn't pursue.

"I'm sorry," he said instead. He tried to regain control of his breathing, his heartbeat, his body. He stretched out his wings some.

I shook my head. "It's not you. I just…"

"I shouldn't have pushed you, though."

"I pushed back. I just…I don't know."

"About?"

I wasn't sure how to answer that. What, exactly, wasn't I sure about? I loved him, he loved me. Wouldn't we just have been solidifying our love? Bringing it to the threshold of emotional manifestation and physical manifestation?

I didn't want to say it to him in the truest, simplest of words: I was afraid.

"About…_that_."

"That."

"Yeah. That."

"It's okay, Max. I get it."

I looked over at him. He had significantly calmed down, considering we were lying together on a bed in a closed room with hardly any clothes on. His eyes were soft again, no longer as alive, but not in the least bit dead.

He did get it. He understood.

I quickly kissed his lips. "Thank you."

"I love you, Max."

Those words were sparsely used between us. That made them carry an even more impressive weight when they _were_ said.

It took me longer than it should have to croak the words, to return the sentiment as fully as he deserved. But better late than never, right?

"I love you, too, Fang. I really do."

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><p><strong>DISCLAIMER:<strong> The first scene (with Iggy and Ella) was inspired by the line Iggy sings (gasp!). That's the exact wording. Once I realized the singer was saying the name "El," I couldn't resist. So, yeah. The song, if you wanna look it up, is the absolutely gorgeous "You Be the Anchor that Keeps My Feet on the Ground, I'll Be the Wings that Keep Your Heart in the Clouds" by Mayday Parade.

I've had about two perks to this hellish week of mine. TWO. That's fairly sad. Give me a reason to smile, yeah? REVIEW.**  
><strong>


	17. The Frontlines

Because I've been the master of procrastination as of late...I have three chapters left to write for this fic. I also have three chapters left to post. Lucky for you guys, I finished this one yesterday. Enjoy.(:

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><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Seventeen: The Frontlines**

I wasn't really sure when I'd last seen my mom, or Jeb for that matter. I was positive they'd been crawling around HQ, even if I hadn't seen them in the time I'd been back. You'd think they would've at least come to see their daughter once she'd been busted from prison. Apparently not.

They did, however, come to see me off to battle. What fabulous parents.

My mom threw her arms around me in a big, warm hug. "Oh, Max. I'm so proud of you."

I nodded against her shoulder. "Thanks, Mom."

She pulled back and looked right at me. "I love you."

No one but Fang ever really says that to me. I embraced her again, biting my lip to keep from crying.

Then there was Jeb. We stared at each other awkwardly for a moment, and then he wrapped both arms around me.

"I'll see you when you get back."

That's all he said. Casual words that carried so much weight at that moment in time.

"Yeah, okay." Really, what could I say to that?

"I'll hold you to it."

{[(/*\)]}

I like to keep my promises. Really, I do. But with each passing minute, I started to doubt my ability to keep my implicit promise to Jeb. More and more and more and more.

The last thing I wanted was to die with a broken promise on my conscience.

The battlefield was already covered in bodies when we got out there. Dead, dying, wounded. Some reached out to us, and I couldn't tell if they were our soldiers or our enemy's soldiers.

The gun they'd given me was longer than my arm, and just about as heavy as a six-year-old Angel. All eleven of us had guns in varying sizes, shapes, and weights.

Yes, eleven. The younger halves of our flocks were here, too, despite much objection from just about everyone but those younger ones.

Gazzy and Pepin were the first of the flocks to plunge into the battle. I could only imagine the mayhem they would cook up there. Had I been sane and unworried, I would have steered clear of them. But I'm neither of those things.

We all kinda paired off, as we tend to do. Izzy with Dylan, Nudge with Artemis, Lux and Angel. Fang was behind me, back-to-back.

And then there was Iggy. He strolled over to Fang and me, a silly smirk on his face.

"Have you guys ever considered a threesome? I hear they're pretty sexy."

Fang and I cracked small smiles, in spite of the turmoil around us. I pulled Iggy closer, extended out his fist, placed mine on top. Fang's features softened as he placed his closed hand on mine.

"We've been together from the beginning, guys," I told them, feeling the sentiment creeping into my mouth. The awful taste.

Iggy nodded. "Yeah. We have."

I hadn't told my flock about my decision yet, the decision to retire, as Fang had said. But I had a feeling Iggy understood the double-meaning in my next words.

"Let's end this."

I honestly didn't pull the trigger very much. The gun had enough weight that I used it more as a club than anything. Bash in a head here, smash a gut there.

The mutants from the other side had been in battle for a couple of hours. They were apparently looking for some fresh meat, some enemy-mutant flesh they could tear their teeth into. The human soldiers were easily tossed aside, like ragdolls flying through the air.

The mutants. Some of them were Erasers. More of them were those reptilian things that had guarded my flock and me in captivity. The rest were, scarily, just different kinds of mutants, like us: experiments gone more or less wrong.

The first gunshot I really heard came from Fang's gun. The sound made me whirl around and look at him incredulously. He had that look on his face, the same one from when he'd broken into the enemy base to get us out. He'd used the gun to get to us then. Now he was using it again.

The gleam in his eyes was no longer there. He was Fang, but not my Fang.

Iggy was going with the gun-as-a-club thing. After all, the whole "aim and fire" was pretty useless with him. I wondered for a split-second why we had the _blind guy_ out in combat. When he beat down three Erasers and a mutant in ten seconds flat, I remembered that he could kick just as much ass as the rest of us, if not more.

As we fought and fought, I let my mind drift. I'd been in enough fights in my lifetime to know that my body could operate without my mind. My arms swung around, carrying the monstrous gun. It rammed into bodies that were closing in on me, forcing them backwards. Pushing, pushing, pushing. Falling, falling, falling.

In all the chaos, I caught of glimpse of Lux. I'd know her red curls anywhere, even as they flew through the air, splashing droplets of blood.

Angel approached Lux, anger written all on her face.

Lux spun through the battle, shooting her gun at any enemy that dared get too close. She wore a look of pure joy on her face. I felt a shiver run down my spine.

Lux paused to more thoroughly kill a reptile thingy. One shot, two, three, four. I called it overkill.

Angel came up behind her, ignoring the Erasers and what have you. Any that got to close were instantly thrown back, and I wondered if Angel had finally rediscovered her powers, times a million.

There was too much noise for Lux to have possibly heard Angel's footsteps. I don't care how super her hearing was. I couldn't even hear Fang's grunts and cries, and he was two feet away from me. Lux couldn't have heard Angel.

My first thought was that it was an accident. It would've made the most sense of anything that happened that day. My mind wouldn't consider any other possibilities. An accident, an accident…

Lux twirled around, that same joy visible in her eyes. She had a grin on her face, scarier than anything Stephen King can cook up.

Angel raised her gun.

Lux raised hers.

The difference? The butt of Angel's gun was inches away from Lux's face. The barrel of Lux's gun was pointed at Angel's stomach.

Every other sound in that battlefield peeled away in layers, the world around me getting quieter and quieter. The gunshot was crystal clear.

It seemed to take Angel a moment to register what had happened. Her features went from enraged to blank to stunned. She lowered her weapon, letting it fall to the ground. I didn't hear the impact. Her tiny hands crept to the stain, blossoming just under her bullet-proof vest like a spring flower.

When Lux turned around, I expected her to be the picture of mortification. I expected her to see me and run to me, shrieking and begging for forgiveness and help.

But Lux was still smiling. She gripped the gun tighter and began to walk away. She caught my eye and smirked.

Then she was gone.

The world snapped back into focus as my mind was flung back into my skull. "Oh my God," I whispered.

Angel collapsed, her knees becoming level with her gun. The flower of blood got bigger and bigger.

Angel. My baby.

My gun fell out of my hands, and my legs used every ounce of strength they could find to bring me to her, the baby of my flock, my family.

"ANGEL!"

I didn't recognize the voice as my own.

Her back had hit the dirt by the time I got to her. Her blue eyes stared up at the sky, watching the clouds streaked through the atmosphere.

"Max," she breathed.

I tore off the bottom of my shirt, wrapped it around my hand, and pressed it into the flower's center.

"MAX!" Fang bellowed.

I frantically pushed the hair out of Angel's sweaty face. Her skin was two shades paler than normal. She closed her eyes, and I saw a tear she had obviously been fighting.

Fang leaped over me and Angel, landing on her other side. His gun hit his ribs, creating a regular beat.

I caught his eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He ignored me. "What happened?"

"You left Iggy!" I shouted, gesturing toward where we had abandoned our comrade.

"He'll be fine, Max. You know he will."

Fang stroked Angel's face. She opened her eyes to look at him, before shutting them again with a whimper.

"I don't understand…" he said. "None of them have guns…"

Angel coughed. "Lux."

Fang stopped caressing her and backed away a bit. "What?"

"Lux," I told him. "Lux shot her."

Fang's eyes searched mine for a moment, darting around crazily. He didn't want to believe what I was telling him, especially since my tone told him it was no accident.

"That's…that's impossible. Why would she…no. No, she wouldn't."

"She did."

Fang gripped his hair, eyes squeezing shut. "Shit…"

I pressed harder into Angel's wound, trying to stop the bleeding. My priority was to save Angel. I could kill Lux later.

Angel sputtered some more. A trickle of blood started from the corner of her mouth.

Fang got up, taking his gun in his hands lividly.

"Fang—"

He couldn't hear me anymore as he left, shoving through the battle. My Fang was truly gone.

"Max…"

I glanced down at Angel. She was staring up at me with those sapphire eyes.

"What is it, baby?"

"Go."

"What?"

"You have to find Lux. Go with Fang. He's not thinking clearly…" Her voice dropped off, like she was searching for the energy to simply verbalize words.

"Angel…"

"Please. Please just listen to me. I tried to stop it, I did. But now I can't. Go, Max. Please. Go."

She reached for my hand, the one covering her wound. She gave me the sincerest look a ten-year-old is capable of giving.

And I sprinted after Fang.

{[(/*\)]}

I lost my gun somewhere between point A and point B.I used it to fight my way through the enemy lines, and once I was out, I lost the firearm. I needed to get back to good old fist-fighting.

I went through the trees the same way I'd gone the first time. I saw a couple of footprints here and there, sometimes small, sometimes large.

Following the prints and my memory led me back to the enemy's base. Fang was circling the perimeter. I went straight to him and placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

His eyes were full of guilt.

"God, I'm so sorry, Max."

"What are you talking about? You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Yes, I do. She's in _my_ flock. She's _my_ responsibility. And she just shot Angel!"

"That's not your fault," I countered.

"It doesn't matter right now. We have to find Lux."

"Fang, calm down."

"No, Max. I have to find her." I could see the muscles of his jaw flexing under his skin.

"Okay, but we might wanna get inside already…"

"Okay then."

I poised to launch myself in the sky, but Fang didn't. Instead, he did something extremely unexpected: He walked over to the building, to where I could just barely make out a door, and he knocked.

I'm not known for using front doors. Especially when they're the front doors of people I don't like.

I jerked him backwards. "Fang! What the hell are you doing?" I hissed.

"Getting inside."

The door actually did open—just a crack.

Just enough for a smoke bomb to get thrown out.

Coughing, coughing, coughing. I couldn't even see Fang, though I knew he was only a couple feet away from me.

Fur on my skin. Claws digging into my flesh. Prickly, uncomfortable.

Blood oozing down my face. Fingers flexing, reaching for a gun that wasn't there.

Gunshot. Fang's groans.

Worry. Panic. Fear. Rage.

Darkness.

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><p>You guys are gonna kill me for that one...<p>

REVIEWS are like notes on a test. They help to improve your score.(: REVIEW!


	18. The Boss

Soo...I seriously just finished this. Yeah, procrastination is a close friend of mine these days. There's gonna be some (IMPORTANT) stuff at the bottom. Read it.

Sorry for the shortness. Enjoy!

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><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Eighteen: The Boss**

Light. Harsh, white, blinding light. In my eyes, on my face, flooding the room, surrounding me, drowning me.

I opened my mouth to scream for help. My mouth did not open.

My eyes were dry as I peeled back my eyelids, every twitch painful. I could only see the white for a moment or two. Then my surroundings gradually began to fill themselves in. Cold steel, hard cement. Pain in my hands, my legs, my stomach. Every inch of me battered.

I finally made out that blur of darkness, the only splash of black in all the light.

His name was raspy on my lips, stumbling off of my tongue like it was some foreign word, not a name I had called a billion times.

He moved ever so slowly, like he was in just as much pain as I was. His face was lumpy and swollen. I could barely see his eyes.

"Max…"

The word was thinner than air.

I reached out to him. My hand was stopped. I tugged and tugged. My hands were tied.

I swished saliva through my mouth, swallowing to coat my throat with it. Water. I needed water.

I pushed back my thirst. "Did…" I coughed. "Did they shoot you?"

It took Fang a long time to answer. His voice was hoarser than mine. "I don't know."

"Can you move?"

His reply was an attempt at this. A shift of the waist. A heave of the hands. He had hardly moved.

I blinked rapidly in the harsh light. The room was empty besides the two of us.

"Why would they leave us alone together?" I mused aloud.

The light got brighter for a moment. Brighter and brighter until I was sure that I would have to ask Iggy to help me survive blind. Footsteps. Shoes clicking on cement. Click, click, click.

Giggle.

What the hell?

"Trust me, Max: You're not alone."

I lunged forward, trying to disentangle my hands from their bonds. My legs straightened out, but I couldn't get the damn chair to move. It must have been bolted down.

Amidst all the goddamn light was the owner of that voice. Small, adorable, angelic. Freckled cheeks. Crimson curls.

I always knew that I could never trust a redhead.

Fang choked on her name.

"Lux."

I didn't want to acknowledge that she had a name anymore. I wanted to forget that she had been a part of my family, that she had helped me see things clearly, that she had forced me to swallow my pride and get Fang back. This girl in front of me was not Angel's best friend. She wasn't like a little sister to me, not anymore.

"Bitch," I hissed.

She grinned at me. "I'd be nice if I were you. You've already seen how I can be when you piss me off."

"She was your _friend_! How could you do that to her? We were your _family_!"

"Actually, I have my own family."

Fang and I said it at the same time: "What?"

She nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah. Daddy!" she called.

More footfalls. Not clicks. Stomp, stomp, stomp.

"Yes, honey?"

"Our guests wanted to meet you."

I didn't recognize his face. I'd never seen the bastard before in my life. But Fang, apparently, had.

"Pierpont," he spat.

"Please. Nino."

I had no intention of getting onto a first-name basis with the guy. Like, hell no.

I opened my mouth to say something particularly nasty to the little traitor (if I remember correctly, it involved something like Lux, a screwdriver, and a polar bear…), but Fang beat me to it.

Lucky for her, Fang's nicer than I am when he's pissed.

"I should have never trusted you, Lux."

"That's right."

"How long?"

Lux was picking at her nails, completely unfazed by the circumstances. "Hmm?"

Fang sighed. His chest was moving far too rapidly with his breathing, like it took him genuine strength to suck in the oxygen to live.

"How long since you betrayed us?"

Lux popped her lips. "Actually, I never betrayed you. I was never on your side, technically."

This information seemed to take a moment to sink in for Fang. His eyes searched her face, looking for a hint of a lie.

"But…I found you. You…you…"

"I was conveniently placed there, Fang. By Daddy." She beamed up at Nino Pierpont.

I could definitely see the resemblance. Pierpont had dark red, almost brown hair. The same freckles. He placed his hand on Lux's shoulder, the way I'd seen Fang do every once in a while.

"And now little Lux has accomplished her mission."

Fang and I glanced at each other, then back at the father-daughter duo.

"Mission?" we said together.

Pierpont grinned proudly. "Yes. It was her idea that she become a spy. She asked for the wings; I gave them to her."

Fang glowered at Lux. "No. She wouldn't. Not the Lux I know."

"Don't you see, Fang? The Lux you _knew_ wasn't even the real thing." She giggled.

Fang sprang forward, thrashing around. I could read the murder in his eyes. Eventually the bonds holding him to the chair just threw him back into his seat, when he couldn't find the strength to fight any longer.

"It's not going to work. Lux tied you in herself," Pierpont told us smugly.

"You talked to him that day, didn't you?" Fang asked. His eyes were still focused on Lux.

"What day?"

I was ignored.

Lux grinned. "Yes, I did. He gave me his ID card so that it wouldn't look like my little adventure was totally pointless."

I caught on quickly enough. "But why lead us to the right person?"

Lux tsked at me. "Come on, Max. You had this worked out so nicely just a few days ago."

Fang's light bulb went off quicker than my own that time. "You _were_ trying to catch us."

"Yes," Pierpont answered. "We were. It took us too many tries, but we did succeed eventually. The trick was just to get Lux out there with you. And after Angel turned her back on us, it was easy enough to lure you both here."

"Angel?" I whispered in surprise.

Lux smiled, that devilish smile she has, and opened her mouth to say something. Pierpont placed a hand over her lips.

"Now, now, sweets, we can't reveal all our secrets. Besides, our guests have an appointment to keep."

I didn't like the sound of that. From the calculating look on Fang's face, neither did he.

"Max!" Lux called.

My head automatically snapped up to look at her. "What?" I muttered.

Lux rolled her eyes. "Not you, stupid."

"Then—?"

I heard footsteps again. Not as heavy as Nino's, not as light as Lux's. But just as firm and just as delicate.

My twin.

I could still make out the bruises around her neck, from where Fang had tried to kill her. Her lips were taut and scabbed over in parts, like she had the same habit I did, just worse. Her eyebrows were angled, her jaw was set. She was pissed.

And she was carrying a gun that was just as big as Lux.

I could already tell that this was _not_ a good combination.

Pierpont clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Max, would you mind showing our guests out?"

Time to stall.

"But wait!"

Lux and Pierpont turned to me, clearly aggravated.

"Wouldn't it just be easier to knock us out of the picture along with our flocks?"

"Max, what the hell!" Fang shushed. After all, it was our job to _protect_ our flocks, not bargain for our lives with theirs.

Pierpont grinned. "Oh no, that's not necessary. I'm convinced that once we take the two of you down, your flocks will fall apart. They'll go into a panic and cause chaos amongst themselves deciding who should be the leader. And they'll take themselves out of the picture for us."

I was ready to argue this, but the conviction in Pierpont's eyes stopped me. After all…what if the flocks really _did_ fall apart without Fang and me to lead them? What if they killed themselves over the power of leadership?

I didn't say another word.

"Let's win this war, Max," Pierpont said to my twin. "It's time we do. Once and for all."

The clone cocked her gun. "My pleasure."

Pierpont turned to exit. Lux didn't move. I hoped beyond hope that she was having a merciful epiphany.

"Lux! Come along," Pierpont called.

"Aww, Daddy, can't I watch?"

Pierpont poked his head inside, frowning. "I don't need my daughter to have that sort of mental image ingrained on the lobes of her brain forever."

Lux looked genuinely heartbroken as she trudged out after her father.

My twin turned to Fang and me. And she lifted her weapon.

* * *

><p>I just love these sorts of cliffhangers. Don't you?(x<p>

Ahem. Okay, so I have a couple of favors to ask...

ONE: There's a poll on my profile that is very important for my future. Please vote on it.(:

TWO: I have my SAT Subject Tests tomorrow. Ugh. These are the last college tests I plan to take, so I would very much appreciate it if you wished me some luck...

...of course, to properly wish me luck, you need to REVIEW. Thank you.(:


	19. Returning the Favor

If you voted on the poll, I love you. It's gonna be staying up for a while, so if you haven't voted yet, feel free to do so.

This is the second to last chapter. I know, I know, it's weird. The story went by fast. Still, I hope you've enjoyed it. While it's definitely not my favorite piece, I like it enough.

Read on!

* * *

><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Nineteen: Returning the Favor**

I couldn't believe it. In fact, I was so much in doubt that I was absolutely positive I had died and gone to heaven. And I'm not really into the whole heaven and hell thing.

That split moment of disbelief was when I was sure I was dead. I couldn't feel anything, and Fang was by my side, just how I'd always imagined dying. I could live with death if I had Fang.

And then I felt freedom, and I knew that I wasn't done living just yet.

I looked in her eyes, again getting that strange feeling, like I'd stumbled across a mirror in the most unlikely of places. Getting lost in her eyes, my eyes, our eyes.

She snapped her fingers in my face.

"I never pegged you as the narcissist."

"What?"

She smirked. "Get up."

Fang was rising slowly. I raised a questioning brow, rubbing my raw wrists.

"What, you gonna let us die on our feet?"

She shoved the gun in my face. "I don't think you _really_ wanna die today."

I stared.

"Get up."

She used the same tone that I use when I want something done. I never realized how intimidating I sounded. I got up, like she told me to.

My twin poked her head out the door, the one I vaguely recalled Pierpont and Lux slipping through. She'd lowered her gun to her side.

"Okay, we're clear." She took a step outside—

"Wait. I, for one, would like to know what the hell is going on here."

She turned back to look at me, exasperated. "Can't you ever just shut up and go with it?"

"Can you?" I retorted.

Fang rubbed his temples. "I never wanted to hear Max arguing with Max."

My twin beckoned to him. "You're better at this obedience thing. C'mon."

Fang actually got closer to where she was standing.

"Fang!" I yelled, incredulous.

"SHH!" they yelled back.

The clone poked her head out the door again. "Are you coming or what?"

"Where are we going? What are you doing?"

She turned back and made a show of rolling her eyes at me. "I'm saving your asses. What's it look like?"

"…Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh.' Now shut up and move."

She went out first. Then Fang, who gave me a 'what's the harm?' look. I rolled my eyes and followed them.

The hallway was empty. At least, empty of human bad guys. There were carts and crates lining the walls, and curiosity struck me. My twin seemed to notice and shot me a glance that said 'don't even.' The five-year-old in me stuck out a tongue when she wasn't looking.

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered to the clone.

She muttered something I didn't quite catch.

"What was that?"

"Does it really matter?" she hissed.

"Yep. If I don't know why, I won't trust you."

She grunted. "Fine. You saved my life, so I'm just reciprocating."

"Sorry, I don't speak geek."

She glowered at me. I never realized how scary my glare was, either.

"You saved me, I'm returning the favor. To both of you. Capiche?"

I opened my mouth to say something smart. Fang nudged me.

"Max, c'mon. Let's just follow her. What's the worst that could happen?

I could think of a long list of "Worst That Could Happen." I mean, this is _my _life we're talking about.

We reached a corner, and the clone stopped. Fang bumped into her. It was only then that I noticed he was limping.

"Fang, what happened?" I demanded quietly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your leg!"

Fang lifted up his jean leg and inspected the damage. There was a stream of blood starting just below his knee cap.

"It's probably not as bad as it looks," he decided, letting go of the material.

"What happened?"

"How should I know?"

"Shh!" my twin ordered. "I think there's someone co—"

Shots. Shouts. Screams.

BOOM.

"What the—"

A tongue of fire came from the direction of the boom and almost licked us. My twin stumbled back.

"Whoa."

"What is it?"

"How the hell should I know?"

More gunshots. Thumps as bodies fell to the ground. Grunts, groans, moans, cries. Heavy steps. Panting.

Smoke followed the fire. Lots of it. The clone covered her mouth, and Fang followed suit. I got a lungful.

Suddenly, there was a gun barrel inches away from my twin's nose. She raised her gun.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she threatened.

The gun was removed. A familiar voice. "Max?"

My twin and I both responded simultaneously. "Yes?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Iggy said. "The world does _not_ need two Maxes."

Fang grinned. "I'm with you on that, bro."

I glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The clone looked at Iggy, the smoke having cleared up enough for her to get a visual. Then she glanced at Fang and me.

"You guys know each other?"

"Yes…"

She turned back too Iggs. "What're you doing here?"

"Saving Max and Fang, of course."

"Wait, how did you find us?" I asked.

Iggy was silent for a moment. There were more gunshots, and then Nudge came up next to Iggs. The poor girl looked like she'd walked through hell and back, with her hair sticking up in every direction and her face smeared with dirt and soot and blood. Of course, Iggy wasn't in much better condition.

"Max!" she said to the clone. "Fang! Ma—what?"

I raised my hand. "I'm _your_ Max."

"At least, that's what she tells us," Iggy muttered.

Nudge looked back and forth between me and my clone. "You know? Whatever. Let's just get out of here."

"I like that idea. We can sort out which Max is which later." Iggy lifted his gun again.

My twin shrugged. "Fine by me."

That's the only time I've ever seen Iggy and Nudge fire guns. To this day, I'm sure they would deny it if I brought it up. Like, firearms? No way.

But, anyway, they blasted their way through the chaos that was erupting throughout the enemy's base. My twin joined in on it, too, while Fang and I lingered behind them, unarmed.

Iggy killed another one. I have no idea how he did it.

We picked up other friendly faces along the way. Pepin, Artemis, Gazzy, Dylan. I was about to ask about Izumi, when she tumbled out of a room to my right, knocking us both to the ground.

She smiled. That was the first time I could ever remember her being genuinely happy to see me.

"Hello, Max. Glad to see you're okay."

"I'd be better if I didn't have a bird kid on top of me."

"Right. This might concern our boyfriends." Izzy pulled herself up off of me and then offered me a hand. I took it.

"No weapon?" she asked.

"Confiscated."

Izzy reached behind her, into the waistband of her pants, and pulled out a pistol. She offered it to me.

"Where'd you get this?" I asked, taking it reluctantly.

"I nabbed it when Morgan wasn't looking. Not like they're gonna notice."

"You have another one of those for me by any chance?" Fang asked jokingly.

"Actually, Dylan should have yours."

Dylan turned at the sound of his name. "What?"

"Gun. For Fang."

I could almost see the light bulb turn on. "Oh right." He reached into his waistband. "I forgot about that. Here you go, man."

Fang took the gun. "Thanks."

Izzy shrugged. "Not ideal for this situation, but definitely better than nothing."

"Yeah…" I mumbled.

Iggy and the others drifted over to where we were, amidst all the fire and smoke and bodies. We were the only living in the hallway.

"Headcount!" Iggy shouted.

"On it," Izzy answered, silently counting everyone around us. "Ten," she reported.

"Ten?"

"Yeah, two Maxes."

Iggy nodded. "Alright. Let's go find Lux."

I glanced at Fang. "Do they know?"

Izzy answered, "Oh, yeah, we know. I do believe that we all have some not so nice things to say to her."

"Wait, guys—" Fang interrupted.

"Too late for that, bro. We've made up our minds. After we got Angel back to HQ and she told us what happened…" Iggy flexed his fingers around the gun. "We need to do this."

"I know where to find them," my twin offered.

Dylan gripped his gun tighter. "And what makes you think we can trust you?"

She frowned. "I was ordered to kill them." She used her gun to gesture at Fang and me. "They're still alive. I think that garners enough trust for you to follow me, especially considering that you'd be dead from asphyxiation before you ever found them on your own."

"Them?" Gazzy said. I didn't like the way he was holding onto that gun.

"Lux and Nino."

"Pierpont?" Pep asked.

"Yeah. Nino is Lux's father."

Silence.

"…Angel didn't mention that part…" Artemis whispered.

"Considering that she'd just been shot in the gut…" Dylan said.

Iggy cocked his gun. "Okay, whatever. Max—"

"Yes?" we both answered.

Iggy grimaced. "Geez, guys, you're gonna give me a headache. Okay, Max I don't know, lead the way."

My twin clapped a hand on my shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, Nino was wrong."

"About what?"

She looked at Fang and me, then at our flocks. "Your flocks don't fall apart without you."

The clone made her way to the front of our little raiding party, gun poised to shoot. And we all followed her.

{[(/*\)]}

It was a long way to wherever the hell Lux and Nino were. We had to stop once, to get Pep's ankle out of a little hole in the floor. Other than that, my twin was a sergeant.

She ended up leading us to a part of the building that miraculously wasn't on fire. It seemed like a whole other place, not the same building we'd come from.

"This is Nino's private wing," the clone explained. "This is where he stays, unless there's an emergency."

"Doesn't _this_"—I gestured to where we'd come from—"qualify as an emergency?"

She frowned. "I wasn't finished."

"My bad."

"An emergency that interests him in any way. I doubt he's batted an eyelash at the fact that most of his people are being killed right now. He's comfortable that he's safe from the fire."

"How did the fire even _start_ anyway?" Fang asked, posing the question to no one in particular.

Iggy, Gazzy, and Pepin all looked at the ground sheepishly. "Um…"

Then Iggs snapped his head up. "Wait, I can't get in trouble! I'm in charge!"

"Now that I'm back, you're not," I retorted. "And I thought you'd left behind your pyro days."

"Once a pyromaniac, always a pyromaniac. Besides, there are a few handy tricks that I never taught Gaz."

Gazzy and Pep looked up. "There's more?" The gleam in their eyes frightened me.

"Oh yeah."

My twin cleared her throat impatiently. "Are you guys done?"

"Yes," all three of them responded.

"Good. We're here."

I'm not sure what I was expecting. A chamber full of crude torture devices? Secret plans showing just how evil this guy really was? Lux's playroom?

I definitely hadn't been expected what I saw.

Lux and Nino together. Through a small window, I could catch a glimpse of them sitting on a couch. Lux was curled up at her father's side, and it looked like he was reading to her.

So not what I was expecting from a bad guy.

I halted my step. How the hell was I supposed to kill either one of them?

"Max, what is it?" Fang asked.

I dropped my gun. Why had I even picked one of those disgusting things up in the first place?

Fang picked up my weapon and tried to give it back to me. I pushed it away.

"No."

"Are you crazy? You can't just walk around here without a weapon. You'll get yourself killed."

"I can't," I whispered, my eyes still on the window. "I just can't."

The others had stopped in their tracks. I'm sure they could all hear what I was saying. They could all detect the weakness in my voice.

I had finally truly failed them as their leader.

My twin gripped Pepin's shoulder. "Do you have any more of those things that caused the fire?"

Pepin nodded and reached into his pocket. He pulled out two packages wrapped with wires and duct tape. Bombs.

She patted his back. "Thanks, kid." She turned to the rest of us. "You might wanna clear out of here."

"What for?" Izzy asked, cocking a hip.

"I'm gonna take care of this, since Max can't seem to."

I stared at the floor.

Iggy reached out to her. "At least let someone go with—"

The clone raised her gun and pointed it straight at Iggy. We all gasped collectively, and more than one weapon aimed instinctively.

"No," she said firmly. "I go alone. Get out of here."

No one moved.

"_Now_," she pressed.

A small shuffle of footsteps.

"RUN!" she roared, thrusting the tip of her gun in our direction.

I nodded almost imperceptibly. They started moving.

I stayed where I was.

"I meant you, too," she muttered.

I looked at the flocks, slowly departing. Fang looked back at me, concerned, showing me my gun in his hand. I turned away.

"I shouldn't let you do this," I said.

"It's not up to you. This is my choice."

She gritted her teeth and challenged me with her eyes.

"Thank you."

And I walked away.

In the end, we did run. There were booms, and fire started to find its way to us, preceded by smoke. We found an exit, flew out, and watched the base burn from the sky.

Now, the only time I can see my face is when I'm gazing into a mirror.

* * *

><p>...What can I say after that?<p>

Oh, well there is this: I'm not trying to corrupt you with this story. At all. I'm not a gun-toting, trigger-happy kinda girl. In fact, I'm more of a pacifist. Which makes it seems pretty stupid that I wrote about a war. But yeah. I'm not trying to encourage war or gun use with this story, especially when either of those involves children.

Phew. Okay, that spiel's over. I'll save my next semi-important spiel for the last chapter. Look for it.

Thank you to everyone who wished me luck last week. I ended up switching tests at the last minute and taking Literature and Math 1, instead of U.S. History and Math 1. I think I made the right choice in that.(:

REVIEWS are splendid. Especially since this is one of your last chances to review this story. REVIEW.


	20. The Offering

"Looks like we made it..." This is it, guys. I'll let you read the chapter now, but only if you promise to read the AN I'm leaving at the bottom...This is my offering to you.

* * *

><p>The Battle's Never Over<br>Sequel to The Battle's Just Begun

Summary: The past six months have been chaos, but there's no time for rest, not now. The flocks are split up and saddled with a new mission, and this one really does seem impossible. Of course, most things are impossible when you're a prisoner of war. SEQUEL.

**Chapter Twenty: The Offering**

We got our own plane on the way back. It didn't make the trip any shorter.

I was sure the plane would drop from the sky, because of the weight I felt pressing down on every cell in my body. The weight of the coffin in the cargo hold.

I gazed out the window at the clouds, tinged with the midday sun. We still had a long way to go. I let my head drop onto Fang's shoulder. He kissed my hair.

"It'll be alright, Max."

I didn't say the words that came to my mind, the cruel, harsh words.

I didn't trust Fang's word, not this time.

{[(/*)]}

After my twin blew up the enemy base, killing Lux, Nino, and herself in the process, we flew like hell back to HQ. Iggy told me on the way back that he and Gazzy had carried Angel back to HQ after they found her on the battlefield, delirious from the loss of blood. They didn't pay attention to her at first, he told me. They didn't believe her when she said that Lux had shot her and Fang and I had chased after the traitor.

And then Angel did something. She didn't physically do it, but she pushed them back, away from her. She started yelling at them, telling them that Fang and I would need help. And then she lost consciousness.

Even though Angel had been drifting away from the flock in recent months, Iggy and Gazzy decided to take her seriously. They rallied together both flocks, laid out a quick, haphazard plan, and headed for the base.

They didn't breathe a word of this to Paige Morgan.

{[(/*\)]}

Fang's hand tangled in my hair as he pulled a thin airplane blanket over us. His lips pressed against my temple.

He fell asleep soon after. I was tired—exhausted. It felt like every drop of energy had been drained from my body, but I couldn't let my eyes close. Every time I so much as blinked, Angel's face flashed behind my eyelids. The first time I saw her, the last time I saw her, and snapshots in between.

The first time: She was just a baby. Blond curls, almost as light as her skin. Huge blue eyes, each like little planet Earths. And the delicate wings in her back that made her look like a Valentine's Day cherub.

The last time: Eyes closed. Hair limp. Face ashen white.

Lying in a coffin.

Wings lifting her to heaven...

I wasn't even sure if she'd believed in heaven.

{[(/*\)]}

Once it was safe to land, I was running. I almost lost my footing, touching down at the speed I was going. I managed to do a somersault and get right back on my feet. The others followed me, but they couldn't keep up. I tore through HQ, searching and searching for Angel, my baby.

Ter Borcht was standing at her bedside in the hospital wing, sighing. He started to say something when he saw me, but I shoved him aside.

And then I saw her.

There was a bandage wrapped around her torso, stained through and through with blood. She was sweating like a rainforest, groaning.

She opened her eyes for a split second and saw me.

That brought on a smile.

"Max."

That was about the moment that I stopped caring about how ambiguous her loyalties had been since, well, ever. Even if she'd had a plan to assassinate me that I didn't know about, it didn't matter, 'cause she was my baby, and she was in trouble.Q

I collapsed next to her and kissed her forehead. "I'm here, Angel."

"I didn't know if you'd come back."

"Bad guys can't kill me. I thought you'd know that by now."

She started to laugh, but it quickly turned into a cough. There was a pitcher of water nearby. I grabbed a cup and poured her a glass. Everyone else chose that moment to burst into the little hospital wing. They crowded around the bed like a desperate family.

Angel was happy to see them. "Hey, guys."

There was a collective sigh of relief. Then Angel cleared her throat.

"While you guys are all here…" A string of coughs interrupted her. She groaned, her hand going to her stomach. I could see fresh blood seeping through the wrap.

"…While _I'm_ still here…I need to tell you guys…"

I smoothed her hair. "It's okay, baby."

"No. No, it's not. I'm not gonna die with this on my conscience."

I wanted to tell her no. No, she wasn't gonna die. She was only ten years old, for God's sake! She didn't deserve it!

As it was, we all stiffened at the word "die." All eyes went to the blood-soaked gauze, and the reality seemed to hit us all right in the gut.

"So I wanna tell you that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I turned my back on you guys."

"It wasn't your fault," Fang cut in. "Lux—"

"Lux didn't force me to do anything! I knew exactly what I was doing, and I chose to do it!"

Silence. The only sound that filled the small space we were occupying was Angel's labored breathing.

"Lux told me a while back what she was playing at. And…I couldn't resist it. The thought of…of…I don't even know anymore. But Lux wasn't made like us. Nino put the wings on her. He used her to get to us."

"And it worked," Pepin whispered. "She never liked talking about her past."

"More like she was so damn adorable we didn't really care," Izumi muttered.

Angel giggled. "It's always the cute ones. Anyway, I helped her out for a while. But then when I figured out what she and Nino really planned to do…I wanted out. I just couldn't do it anymore. I told Nino that when we got captured. And…he took my powers. It was so quiet, I almost couldn't stand it. Word got to Lux and she was determined not to let me ruin things. At first, I wasn't going to tell you. I was just gonna stop her myself."

Angel closed her eyes. For a moment, I wondered if she would ever open them again. Thankfully, she did.

"That was when she shot me."

{[(/*\)]}

I didn't realize that I'd dozed off. The shaking of the plane alerted me, making my eyes snap open. I shot up, only to be pulled back down by the stupid seatbelt. I still haven't really figured out why _seatbelts_ are needed that high in the air.

Fang woke up, too, grogginess written all over his face. "What's going on?" he asked.

"I don't know…" I replied.

Fang, in the window seat, lifted up the little curtain/shutter thingy that he had put down a while ago. Outside, there were buildings, other planes, cement.

"Oh," we both said, feeling like dumbasses.

Fang stretched his arms out in front of him, then cracked his neck. "That wasn't as torturous as I'd anticipated."

I nodded. We'd definitely been through worse.

[[(/*\)]}

"How did you do it, Angel?" I asked her.

"Do what?"

"On the battlefield, you were pushing everyone away without touching them. How did you do that?"

"The greatest powers you have are already there, Max," she breathed. "They just come when you need them most."

I thought that was something awfully philosophical for a ten-year-old to say. But I guess impending death brings buckets of wisdom. I ignored the fact that she hadn't really answered my question.

Angel had another coughing fit. A big one. Limbs flailing, hair flying, lungs gasping for breath. Her hand covered her mouth, like she had germs she didn't want to give to us, but I could see the crimson droplets.

Oh God.

Gazzy made his way toward the top of the bed, where Angel's head rested. He embraced her gently, like the big brother he's always been. He kissed her hair.

"It's okay, Angel. It's gonna be okay."

I swear his voice was cracking. And I don't mean because of puberty.

I hadn't seen the Gasman cry since he was maybe four or five, and he scraped his knee.

There was a lot of crying that day.

{[(/*\)]}

Ella was waiting for us when we got back. Paige Morgan got a car for us back to our houses. Our first stop was my mom's house. Ella stood on the porch, looking worried and impatient. When the driver pulled up to the curb, she glanced up, hopeful. I grabbed Iggy by his shirt and thrust him at the car door.

"Hey, watch it," he complained. "Can't see, remember?"

I rolled my eyes.

Iggy opened the door and got out of the car. One moment, Ella was on the porch. The next, she was a blur of color and fabric, running at Iggy faster than I've ever seen her run before. He must have heard her coming, but he didn't run. He would only have hurt himself doing that.

Ella slammed into him, arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He caught her flawlessly, holding her up like she didn't weigh a thing.

I motioned for everyone else to stay in the car. Ella and Iggy needed their moment.

We were far enough away that I couldn't hear everything they were saying. "Oh my Gods" and "I was worrieds" and "I love yous." That was about all I caught.

Just 'cause we weren't listening doesn't mean that we didn't watch with rapture. Iggy tilted Ella's face up, looking right at her like he could see every detail of her face better than anyone else. And then he kissed her.

God, it was so romantic I wanted to puke.

{[(/*\)]}

It was about a day before we got settled back into our old lives. No one said anything about the absence of Angel and Lux, not even Ella. I had a feeling that Iggy explained things to her.

My mom and Jeb were around more in that day than they had been for months. It was great to have my mom around. As for Jeb…well, Jeb's Jeb.

They apparently had the day off. That's why Jeb's eyebrows disappeared under his receding hairline when I asked him for a ride to the Office.

"What for, Max?"

"Just a piece of business I have to take care of. It won't take long."

"Okay. Just…give me a couple of minutes, okay? I need to find the car keys…"

Jeb wandered off in search of said keys, and I turned to head for the front door.

Fang was standing there, inches away.

I put out a hand. "Invading personal space bubble."

"And since when have you cared if I invade your space bubble? In fact, you seem to enjoy my invasions." He smirked.

"Well, right now, I have to go."

Fang stopped smirking. "Want me to go with you?" He knew exactly where I was going and what I was going to do once I got there.

"No. This is something I need to do…just me."

He nodded. "Alright."

Fang usually isn't one to initiate hugs. But this time, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me as close to him as our bodies allowed. He kissed my hair. "You've done great, super girl."

How I hoped he was right.

[[(/*\)]}

Paige Morgan, apparently, didn't believe in taking days off. She was sitting behind her desk, lips puckered in sour concentration, glasses sliding down her nose.

I cleared my throat to get her attention.

She glanced up. "Hello, Maximum." She wasn't smiling.

I didn't enter her office. "I have something to tell you."

She put down her papers. "I am listening."

I knew that the best way to say what I had to say was just to say it. Just to freaking tell her what I wanted to. But my mouth went dry. I couldn't remember what I was going to say, and when it came back to me, I couldn't remember how to put it nicely.

"Maximum?"

"I wanna retire," I blurted. "I mean, I want to resign. I don't want to do this anymore."

Her face betrayed no emotion, no indication that this declaration affected her in any way.

I rambled on. "I'm through with this whole saving the world gig. It's screwed me up. I'm done. Someone else can do it. But not me."

"And your flock?"

"That's up to them. If they wanna keep going, I won't stop them. But I'm done."

"And Fang?"

I sighed. "It's his choice also."

"You realize they will all follow your lead, Maximum." Not a question.

I thought of the way the Iggy and Izumi were able to lead the rescue operation, they way they had everything and everyone completely under control. The way they navigated through the enemy base, found us, and got everyone out in one piece.

They didn't need me.

"I'm not their leader anymore."

{[(/*\)]}

The last thing Angel told me will stick in my head forever, a Post-It inside my skull. She was almost gone. We were all waiting around the bed, just waiting, waiting, waiting.

We didn't have any words left to say to our comrade.

Angel was passing in and out of consciousness. With us one moment, almost gone forever the next.

I held onto her hand tightly. Every few minutes, she would squeeze back to let me know she was still there.

The last time, she didn't stop squeezing. I didn't think anything of it. Then she shook my hand gently.

"Max…" she mumbled.

I looked over at her. Gazzy was lying next to her.

"Max…"

"What is it, hun?"

"There's something else I have to…"

She wasn't coughing anymore. She didn't have enough energy to even do that. She would just kinda choke up, like she was gonna cough, and then let out a raspy breath.

"I need to tell you…"

I put a hand on her cheek gently. "Shh. It's alright. You don't have to tell me anything. You need your rest."

_I'll have plenty of time for that_, she thought at me.

_You can mind read again?_

_Just barely._

_Don't use up your energy,_ I admonished.

_But Max…_

_Angel._

We stared at each other intently, eyes locked together, brown and blue, engaged in everlasting combat. We used to fight for power. Now I was fighting for her to live. I'm not sure what she was fighting for. Nudge and Fang watched us, probably knowing that something was up.

_Max…Did you know that Nino was an Eraser?_

The hair on my neck and arms stiffened. The Eraser's mug flashed through my mind, grin, teeth, claws, fur, the whole shebang. I almost felt his claw on my flesh, drawing a trail down my cheek. The air in front of my face got warm, like he was breathing on me.

And those eyes. His horrible, dark, endless eyes. I was falling into them again, drowning , drowning…

"He…was?" I asked, my voice unsteady.

But Angel wasn't squeezing my hand anymore.

[[(/*\)]}

I leaned out the window, feeling the cool night air flutter across my back. I hoisted myself up onto the window sill, my feet dangling over the carpet of the room I shared with Nudge. She was tucked up in her blankets, snoring softly.

My toes dragged across the endings of the rug. I stared at the clock. 11:58.

I wondered if anyone remembered. I wondered how _I _remembered. I wondered how my world had gone from such chaos to cool nights in just a few days.

11:59.

I decided that I didn't want to see the digits change again. Why did I bother staring down a contraption with neon green numbers? They didn't really dictate anything. Somewhere in the world, it was already my birthday, and perhaps had been for hours. In some places, my birthday might have already come and gone.

I bit my lip, dipping my head back to glance at the stars.

"Geez, how many times do I have to tell you to stop biting your lip?"

I turned to Fang, who was sitting on my bed.

"When did you get here?"

"Just a moment ago, actually. I'm surprised you didn't hear me open the door."

"Since when do you use the door?"

"Since I decided to work on my manners."

"Ha. Good luck."

Fang eyed the clock. I followed his gaze. 12:00.

"Happy birthday," he said.

"Thanks." At least I knew now that someone _had_ remembered.

We didn't speak for a moment.

"You're not gonna sock me, are you?"

Fang grinned and shook his head. "No. You might sue me for domestic violence. I was thinking something more along the line of…nineteen kisses."

I looked over at Nudge's sleeping form and swung my legs out the window. "Gotta catch me first."

And I took off.

I swear I went easy on him. I just led Fang right back to his room. He landed a split second after I did, catching me around the waist.

Lips on my shoulder. "One," he whispered.

Sliding down my tank top, pressing his lips into the spot between my wings. "Two." My wings shuddered.

The nape of my neck. "Three."

Behind my ear. "Four."

The joint of my jaw. "Five."

Sinking down to my collar bone. "Six."

I turned so that I could face him, locking my hands around his neck. He took one and kissed my palm. "Seven."

The base of my throat. "Eight."

My throat. "Nine."

My neck. "Ten."

I just watched him, my eye closing every time his lips touched a new place.

"Eleven." My chin.

"Twelve." The corner of my eye.

"Thirteen." One eyelid.

"Fourteen." The other.

"Fifteen." My forehead.

"Sixteen." My nose.

"Seventeen." One cheek.

"Eighteen." The other.

He stopped, just looking into my eyes. I understood the question that was there.

I kissed his lips. "Nineteen," I murmured against them.

That was the first night that I truly, completely trusted Fang, with every fiber of my being, every piece of my heart, mind, body, soul. I haven't stopped trusting him since.

Things were gonna be okay. They were gonna be okay. No matter what shenanigans we went through, we would go through them together. In the end, that was what counted.

Everything was gonna be okay.

After all, I _am_ Maximum Ride.

**THE END.**

* * *

><p>Well. I hope you guys have enjoyed this story, because it will be my last.<p>

Okay, fine, it'll be my last big fic for a long time. Maybe not forever. But right now, I've lost my interest in working with other people's characters. I feel like the quality of this story has gone WAY down ever since my month in that arts program (dang it, CSSSA!). I'm gonna take an indefinite vacation from Fanfiction and focus on my own works. Conveniently, NaNoWriMo is just around the corner.(:

HOWEVER. (Yes, there is a however.) I've been working on a little oneshot that I MIGHT finish someday and post. It's basically like my final stand for FAX, in which I slam down the idea that Fang might possibly be falling for Maya...because I'm in denial about that.

Since this is the last chapter of my last big story (for the moment) on this site, I have no qualms about asking this favor of you:

PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING GOOD AND BEAUTIFUL IN THIS WORLD. REVIEW.

And don't just review. Please send kisses of good luck to the big brown envelope in my bag, because I will be mailing it to Miami in a few days. Inside the envelope is my submission to the YoungArts program's writing department. I have made the lofty goal of collecting one hundred good luck kisses for the envelope before I mail it off. Can you spare a good luck kiss?

REVIEW. SEND GOOD LUCK KISSES MY WAY. REVIEW.

Thank you so much for sticking through sixty chapters of my writing (counting all three stories). I hope it's been worth your time.

-Bells


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